Black Nail Polish and a 9 Mil Round
by Lady of chaos and tragedy
Summary: She's the blonde, blue-eyed angel of innocence, & she's on a killing spree. Somebody else wants revenge for Ms Mercer's death. Somebody else is terrorizing Detroit. Somebody else is driving Robert Mercer to the brink of insanity. And he kind of likes it..
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Ok, guys, this is the redone/proofread/updated version.. **

It was cold.. Jay J shivered and tucked her hands in her pockets, ducking her head against the icy Detroit wind. Damn it was fucking cold!

She glanced up at the closed coffin in front of her. It was a gorgeous coffin, worthy of the lady that rested inside.. Every inch of spare space around the ornate wooden box was covered with eloquent flower arrangements and mourners, Miss Evelyn Mercer had been a well-loved citizen. There wasn't a dry eye in the place, not that Jay J could see anyways. She herself, was not crying. Not out of disrespect for Miss Evelyn, Jay had loved the old woman with all her heart. She just, simply, didn't cry.

Across the heads of many friends and relatives, Jay J focused on a stand of Scarlet roses resting on the exact center of Ms Evelyn's final resting place. Roses. Jerry had insisted on that. Four Roses. One from himself, one from Bobby, one from Jack, one from Angel. Unfortunately, Jerry was the only one of these four brothers that Jay J knew. She had come into Miss Evelyn's life a long time after the last of her boys had left. Jerry, however, came back to look after his mom, sporting a beautiful new pregnant wife and baby girl.

Jay J loved the girls, and they worshiped her. Smiling softly now, Jay shifted her arm to a more comfortable position under a sleeping Amelia. She cuddled the girl close. Looking up again, her own soft blue eyes met with cold gray over the top of the roses. Gray eyes set in a handsome face she recognized from Ms Evelyn's family albums. This was the oldest, Robert Mercer. Hockey player turned Heavyweight fighter, he had a rep for being a hothead, but an intelligent one.

So Bobby had shown after all.

After the service, there was a gathering at Jerry's house. Jay J was surprised to see another face she knew from that old and well-worn album; Jack Mercer. The youngest. By all reports a good kid. Trying to make it in the music industry, a rocker. And he looked the part too. Messy-yet-adorable hair fell into deep gray/blue eyes. Handsome profile, dressed in leather and chains. Maybe a little too punk-style for Jay J, but it suited him.

She watched from the doorway as Bobby and Jack made their way to the house, stopping to talk with Jerry's little girls. It was then that Detectives Green and Fowler made an appearance...

Fowler had been after Jay for months. Ever since her second hit here in the Detriot, some crooked political fuck-up named Greenberg. One of her most famous kills. But she had almost been caught then, taking jobs that were too close to home. Not a mistake she would repeat if she could help it. Still, she couldn't figure out how that bastard Fowler had come up with her, she had always been careful to have no ties with her victims, and the clients knew her only as Jaybird, a codename. All contact was secure and anonymous.

The young, blonde assassin backed away from the door as the two cops approached. Watching from a window, she observed their conversation with the two Mercers. Green and Bobby were old buds, used to play hockey together when they were kids, according to Jeremiah. Jay J was good at retaining information, it was one of the main reasons she was still alive today. Behind her Jerry was talking to his wife, Camille. Her voice was sweet and soft, harder to hear.

"I thought you said he wasn't coming?" _'who wasn't coming? Bobby? Jack? Green?' _Jay J also had a bad habit of listening to other people's conversations. It may not be polite, but the things she'd overheard had saved her ass many a time. Fuck politeness.

"No, I said I didn't know if he was coming. Nobody's seen that face around here for a long time." '_Bobby, then..'_ The eldest Mercer had not been home for almost six years. Before Miss Evelyn had taken Jay J from her.. former home. Jacqueline (Jay J) Lydia Sylvette did not generally discuss her past.

Seeing the group of men heading towards the house, Jay decided it might be time to make her exit. She'd meet up with the boys later, at home.

It was past 10 and very dark when the car containing three men drove up to Evelyn Mercer's former home. They got out and headed towards the door.

"So how you been Bobby?"

"I'm a fuckin' college professor Jack, how you think I've been?"

A deep chuckle. "Somehow I doubt that."

Angel Mercer was sitting just inside, and was greeted with hugs and teasing insults.

"Hey man, did you get your teeth whitened?"

"Shut up Jackie-boy."

Jerry pushed past the others and threw a suitcase onto the couch in an impeccably kept living room. Calling out as he did so, "Hey Jay J, you home?"

"Who the fuck is Jay J?" Bobby flopped down in his favorite chair and answered his own question. "Probably another poor bastard Mom took in."

"Watch your mouth, Bobby."

She was a sight for sore eyes. Standing there in her low necked, blue sweater that fell off one shoulder, and low-rise hip-huggers; like that beautiful neighbors' daughter that you can dream about but never quite touch. Golden curls framed her face and she smiled sweetly.

"Hi, I'm Jay J." 

Her voice was sweet and lilting, with a faint country girl drawl.

"Well, I'll let you boys get settled in, I'm just making dinner in here." She ducked back into the kitchen.

Bobby blinked, Angel got a goofy eyed grin, and Jack just stood there quietly like Jackie usually does... But who knows what goes through his mind?

Oh yes, Jay J had perfected the art of making a good first impression.

Jerry looked around at his mismatched brothers, a look of amusement on his face. Bobby finally spoke up.

"Where'd she come from?"

"Mom took her in after she ran away from some abusive cult. She doesn't talk about it." Jerry stared at the door to the kitchen. "But she pays for herself, and the girl can _cook_. "

"What kind of work does she do?"

"Doesn't really talk much about her job-"

"Hooker?" this from Angel. Earning him a whack over the head from his youngest brother. For some reason that remark offended Jack.

"No, but she's got the body for it, doesn't she?" Jerry chuckled.

Bobby snorted. "Probably a fucking slut. what the hell _does _she do?"

Unfortunately for Bobby, JayJ returned just in time to hear that remark. She sent him a death glare that made Jack and Angel shudder, but decided to let it slide. Once.

"I'm a professional assassin." She began clearing up a little, hanging coats and wiping off the coffee table. "I '_do_' contract killings." Her tone was not to be messed with, but obviously Bobby didn't get that message. He chuckled, his tone taunting.

"Yeah right. Sorry baby, but I just can't see you with a gun in your hand."

That was twice. Well, he'd had his chance...

Jay J was on him so quick that Jack didn't know if he had blinked or not. But yup, she sure had a gun in her hand. And said gun was being almost fondly pressed to Bobby's gut. The long fingers of her other hand closed around his throat.

"This helpin' your vision, _hon_?" Her voice was smooth and silky. She smiled sincerely. Bobby coughed. This chick did not like to be mocked..

Jerry could see no emotion in Jay's eyes, she was cold and hard. But Jerry knew JayJ would never harm a Mercer. However, heaven help Bobby if he had any other last name.

Jerry walked up behind the blonde. "Jay, c'mon. That's enough."

His tone commanded an obedience that was not normal for Jerry, but one that Jay J was much too acquainted with, and she resented him for it. But she backed off, apologizing through a forced politeness. Quietly she retired to her basement bedroom.

His pride considerably ruffled at being taken down by a girl who couldn't be more than 19, Bobby grabbed his stuff and headed up the stairs. Calling instructions as he did so.

"Jack, you take your old room. Angel, take yours. I'm going to sleep in Mom's room."

Angel's room was exactly the same as he remembered it. As he sat down on the old and familiar bed, turned on the old and familiar stereo, our strong, pretty-boy marine felt a sudden and violent pang of sadness. His Mom was gone, dead. The only woman who ever gave a damn, murdered in cold blood.

Jack found his old guitar, and out of habit began plucking out a tune. It was something he'd do as a kid for comfort. Looking up, he half expected to see his mother in the door way, half expected to hear her voice again.

_"What's wrong, Jackie?"_

Instead he saw the rather large form of Bobby. Bobby crossed the room and sat down n the floor, resting his back against the bed. "You been crying in here you little fairy?" It didn't come out at all like the usual teasing. Jack wondered if Bobby had been crying himself. He sighed and pulled out a packet of cigarettes.

"Leave it alone, man."

"Still making a lot of racket on that freakin' thing?" Bobby gestured towards the guitar in his little brother's lap..

"Yeah, still makin' a lot o' racket." Jackie gave a sad smile. "Too weird in Mom's room?"

"Oh man, way too weird." Bobby ran a hand through his dark hair. "It's crazy, y'know she didn't change a thing in this house. It's exactly the same."

"Except for one feisty little blonde kitten downstairs." Jeremiah leaned on his shoulder in the doorway. "mhmm, just look at y'all."

"What?"

"Nothin', just happy to see ya, happy to see my brothers. Mom would've like this, us all being home. "

Jack nodded and lit up, letting puffs of smoke pour out of his mouth. If his mom was here, she never would've let him smoke inside.

Jeremiah continued. "Tomorrow's Thanksgiving, I'm gonna go buy a turkey or somethin'. Let's at least act like we're a real family."

"Is it true, that she's a killer?" Jack was studying some spot on the ceiling that only he could see, and his question was unexpected. Jerry nodded.

"You heard about Greenberg, Nicholson, Krakovich?" All were prominent men, and their deaths had been covered by local and national newscasts.

Bobby perked up. "You're saying that those were _her _hits?" Another nod from Jerry.

"Ain't no fuckin' way. " He shook his head once. "Those were professional, the police took had no suspects at all. There was no fuckin' evidence to _find_. And you're sitting here tellin' me that that _kid_ pulled those jobs?"

"No, _I'm_ telling you that." Jay J stepped out from behind Jeremiah. "I've already told you I'm professional."

She was clearly dressed for going out. A tailored, soft brown leather jacket covered a sparkling black halter top, which was paired with black, fitted jeans. Her was hair done up in a high ponytail that cascaded down her back like honey-gold. She placed a hand on Jerry's shoulder.

"I've got some work to do, but I'll be in tomorrow morning and supper's already set out, so you boys should be ok 'til I get back." She smiled, waved and turned to head back down the stairs.

But Jack was curious now. He jumped off the bed. "Hey, kitten!"

She spun around to look up. "'Kitten'?"

Jack flashed a grin. "Yeah. Where are you going?"

She hesitated to answer him, and started down the stairs again. "To get some information."

Jack cut in front of her, blocking her way to the door.

"Where?" he pressed. She pushed past him.

"I can't tell you just now."

"I'll talk to you later." She was out the door now. 

At this point, Angel walked past the bedroom door, all dressed up.

Bobby got curious.

"Where are you going?"

"Well, you know, it's getting little stuffy in here, so I thought I'd go get some air.."

Bobby started laughing. "Boy, you can smell that ass from down the street, huh?"

"What're you talking about?" Angel was offended.

"La Vida Loca, she's got another man y'know. "

"What? ain't nobody goin' to get no La Vida Loca nothin'."

"Another man, let me tell ya somethin'. She's got a hard dick in her right now, she screaming somebody else's name, and the last thing she's doin' is thinkin' about your black ass. Leave it alone, man."

Angel was getting frustrated now, and his tone said it.

"Look, I'm standin' here and I'm tellin' y'all both right now, that I'm not going to see that girl, and I'm not!"


	2. Chapter 2

Bottom of Form 1

**A/N New chappie; enjoy!**

Here we Cut to next shot; Angel and la vida loca being chased down the street by some goons in a car...

"So just how serious are you with this dude?" -Angel

"We're serious!" -Sofie, a.k.a. la vida loca

Neither was wearing much by way of winter clothes.. Angel pulled them both onto a side street, and the car passed by.

* * *

"I'm tellin' you Angel, La vida loca ain't staying' in this house one more night!"

Jay J entered through the back door, the kitchen door,and Bobby's yelling came to her ears. She appeared tired from being out all night, her hair looked duller in color and small wisps of gold had escaped to curl around her cheek and neck. Jay Jay took off her jacket and kicked off the high-heeled boots, glancing over to where Jackie was working on a thanksgiving turkey.

"Wow, you cook?" She yawned and walked over, inspecting his work. "Mm.., who's 'La Vida Loca'?"

A rapid fire string of insults in Spanish came through the door from the living room. Jack looked up, chuckling.

"Angel's high school sweetheart."

Bobby's voice came floating back, his usual taunting tone returned in full force."Oh, was I speaking' Spanish, Loco ono?"

Angel was apparently trying to keep the peace, but was only succeeding in making both sides mad at him.

Jay J rolled her eyes and added a spice to Jackie's stuffing, taking a taste afterwards to test the flavor. She glanced up, taking notice of Jack Mercer's height. He was taller than the others, and his voice was much lower keyed. She decided that she liked that.

"Does he always act this way?" Jay J was referring to Bobby's temper.

Jack Mercer just nodded, and Jay slipped down to her room for a shower and change of clothes. She guessed that this was a pretty normal day for the Mercer boys.

* * *

Jay's room wasn't what you'd expect a 19 yr old girl to live in. There were no posters on the walls of cute movie stars or boy bands, no casual clutter of make up and cute outfits on the dresser tops and bed. Instead, everything had a place and everything stayed there.

The walls were painted a dark shade of mahogany, and trimmed with black. There was a 5 drawer dresser by the bed, a computer sat on a table against the wall, and a desk was set in one corner, the only messy surface. Covered with sketches, hand written notes and computer printed papers.

Pictures and paintings hung on the walls, two of the pictures caught Jackie's eye. They were the same size, one hung on each side of the single bed, and they each seemed to be of the same man on a roan colored horse.

In the first picture, the man's back had been facing the camera lens. He was in a forested area, and had his lasso running from the horn of his saddle on a dancing horse to something large and black in the bushes. Looking closer, Jack recognized the creature as a black bear.

The second print contained something perhaps a bit more normal to see than a cowboy roping a bear; and I say here 'perhaps', because it was still a picture-worthy moment. The same man, wearing a red baseball cap and '80s style sneakers appeared on the same horse. This time in front of an old and dilapidated building that could have been a barn.

In the man's arms sat a baby girl, being kissed on the cheek. The man could not be more than 10 yrs Jack's senior at the time this photograph was taken, and was quite handsome. The blonde baby he kissed had the promise of becoming a real beauty.

Jack didn't hear the door as Jay J returned from her shower, wrapped in a fuzzy baby blue towel. Seeing what held Jack's attention, she spoke up.

"That's my father."

Jack started at the sound of her voice. His eyes took in her figure, skin still aglow from the steamy bathroom atmosphere. She turned and took a hairbrush from the top dresser drawer, dragging it through her wet curls.

She didn't seem to be bothered by her near-nakedness. Jackie blinked and unconsciously licked his lips. They seemed suddenly dry.. Jay J sat down on her bed and looked up at him. He needed something to say..

"So that's you, in the second one?"

"Mhmm." A pause. Not really awkward, just silent.

"This on a mountain somewhere?"

"Yeah, my home." She fought with one particularly tough snarl. "The Rockies, second largest mountain range in the world."

Well, that explained her soft accent.

"What happened to him, your Dad?"

She gave a soft laugh. "Oh, I'm sure he's still alive somewhere."

This surprised Jack. The man in the pictures seemed like the kind of father most kids would love to have, not run away from. He wanted to ask more, but sensed that she would only clam up. Jack looked at the picturesagain, and Jerry's words ran thorugh his mind. _'abusive... some sort of cult or something...' _

Jack Mercer knew what it was like to have a haunted past. He looked around the room again. There was a stereo system, Cd's that he hadn't noticed before. And a large, old-looking Western style guitar.

He picked it up. "Can you play this thing?"

"Yeah, I can. That, too." She pointed to a keyboard leaning against the wall.

Jack glanced sideways at her. His face clearly said _'yeah, this little girl is a hardened criminal all right.'_

"Well, I guess I better get dressed." Jay picked up the set of clothes already laid out on the end of her bed and headed back towards the bathroom. "By the way, I think your spuds are boiling over..."

There was a hissing sound from upstairs as liquid met the hot surface of the oven. Jack looked up. _'dammit...'_

Thanksgiving dinner at the Mercer home was a really sombre affair. It was just the four boys at the table. Sofie had gone to get some clothes from her old apartment. And Jay Jay was completely zonked out in her room...

The brothers were pretty much silent, each lost in memories brought hauntingly back by being in this familiar setting. Finally Bobby couldn't take it anymore.

"Ok, fuck this." He stood up, holding a glass in one hand and circling the rim of it with his finger. "Let's go play some fucking hockey. I want to see some quick sticks and some tight passing-"

"It's too cold man." Angel took a drink of punch. "I didn't come all the way out here to play no hockey, now."

But Bobby was already heading for the door. "You coming' Jackie-boy? Let's show these ladies some fuckin' skills!"

(dream sequence)

"_Hey Nikki, what'chya doin'?" he asked._

_It was a dark-haired, unbelievably good-looking boy that spoke.. even at 11 it was understood that he would be a little heart breaker. A much younger Jay J looked up from the creek she was currently pelting with small, smooth pebbles. The tomboyish nickname came from her middle name, Niqita. She offered a smile to the boy._

_"Nothin' much. Was your Mom pretty mad, then?"_

_He sat down on a rock beside his little golden-haired playmate and helped himself to her handful of skipping stones. Blaze made a face before replying to her question. "Yeah, we're s'posed to clean up the yard tomorrow."_

_"By ourselves?"_

_He nodded._

_That was a huge amount of mud for just one 11 yr old boy and one 10 yr old girl. At least, it was a huge amount to remove from the afore mentioned patio. It hadn't seemed like quite that same amount when they were putting it there._

_Jay J giggled, remembering how Jordan had looked with drying clay all over his adorable face. Sure, she had been dealt her fair share of mud balls, too. But Nobody could say that she had lost that particular battle, not by any stretch of the imagination._

_"Well, I guess we kinda do deserve it, though."_

_She stood up on her rock, lifting her arm to match Jordan's last throw. A total of 5 skips, nothing to sneeze at. But she beat him, her stone broke the surface 7 times before falling to the bottom of the clear stream. In the midst of her celebration, Jay J lost her footing and toppled off the slippery surface, landing rather hard on her side. In the fall, her skirt had lifted up to her knee, allowing Jordan a good look at the blue and purple marks there. Marks in the shape of hand prints among old and healing scars._

_"Did that bitch touch you again, Nick?"_

_His voice went low, and Jay J could tell he was mad. She hated that, when he was mad. Of course, he wasn't mad at her, but that didn't make her feel any better about it. She hated it when anybody was mad, her young mind had learned to link pain with yelling, and more often than not is was just bad news for her._

_"Don't call her that! It's nothing.." Jay J stood up quickly and brushed herself off, pulling the fabric down over the bruises. "I just fell down the other day, that's all."_

_"You're such a lousy liar, Nikki. What did she do this time?"_

_When the girl didn't answer, Jordan sighed. Being a kid, (and a boy) he didn't know what exactly to say to her. "..Do you want to come stay at my place again tonight?"_

_"I don't know.. "_

_"C'mon Jaybird, Please?" Of all the different nicknames he had for her, this was his trump card. She could never say 'no' to it. Or to his big, chocolate eyes when he said please... yup, Jordan Clarke Royal could get Jay J to do just about anything if he set his mind to it_...

A loud banging on her door woke Jay J up. She expected to see the plain white walls and ceiling of the room she had spent so much of her life in. She expected to find her hands tied again, expected the banging to lead to something much worse. Jay J cringed under her coverlet for a moment. Then Jerry's voice came to her.

"What the hell are you doin', Bobby!"

Bobby's voice sounded closer, she assumed that he was the one currently caught up in breaking down her door.

"You're the one who said to get her, Jerry! Why the hell does this bitch lock her door in the middle of the fucking day anyways?"

"To keep jerks like you out!" Jay yanked open the door so fast that Bobby's raised fist almost came in contact with her face. He blinked. "And you call me a 'bitch' again, and I swear to whatever fucking Gods there are or aren't, you will have no further need for the female species, Bobby Mercer."

To her dismay, Bobby grinned. "Not that I have much use for them now, other than the occasional fuck."

Suspecting that the threat had gone right over his head, Jay J rolled her eyes. Bobby laughed, and Bobby has a really nice laugh.

"Y'know kid, I think I just might start to like you." He turned to hop up the stairs two at a time.

"Get your stuff, Jerry says you're a good skater. Why don't you come show the fairy here how to play hockey?"

"I heard that, Bobby." A wet rag connected with the side of our eldest Mercer's head.

"Yeah, maybe he can show me how to figure skate after, too." She stuck her tongue out at Bobby's back.

Bobby chuckled. "That's actually not a bad idea."

Jay J rolled her eyes and shouted after him. "I was bein' _sarcastic_ ya moron! I don't play hockey!" She climbed a couple of stairs. "Hey, are you even _listening_ to me?"


	3. Chapter 3

_' Wasn't even bloody listening to me...' _Jay muttered some choice words at Bobby and laced up her skates. Tight. Very tight. As in, she could not feel her feet... Jay J sighed and started again. _'Bobby, you have no sense of self-preservation..'_

Damn she was looking forward to beating his ass.

Because the Mercer brothers were they only ones crazy enough to be skating in this freezing weather, they had to divide into unequal teams. Bobby and Angel against Jay J, Jerry, and Jack.

Jay couldn't care less. She could've taken Bobby and the other boys with just Jack, thanks to the mood she was in now.

Plus, Bobby had seriously downplayed Jack's skating abilities. He got two shots off in the first 40 seconds.

Didn't take long for Jay J to catch the brothers' playing style. Just beat the shit out of the other team, and you'll win. 3 minutes in, Bobby and Jack each had a bloody nose. 5 minutes, and Jerry was bleeding from a cut over his left eye. Angel and Jay J were the only ones untouched. Jay decided to rectify that.

0:14:50 minutes in, the score was 3-3. Angel took the puck down for a breakaway, but Jay J came out of nowhere. She slammed him into the boards of the outside skating rink, hitting low and fast and hard, knowing just the angle that would do the most damage. Wooden planking groaned loudly under the impact of a 230 lb Marine going full speed. Angel curled over the side, his breath knocked out of him.

Jay took the puck back into a mess of Mercers and sticks and blades. It is surprising that she didn't lose it, Bobby was right over her shoulder the entire time. Jay J would allow the small disk of rubber to bounce off of his stick occasionally, but never really let him get a piece of it. And that infuriated him. Bobby Mercer, the Michigan Mauler, being out played by a kid. Jay J sensed his frustration and saw the blow coming...

You can't toy with Bobby and go unpunished. So just before she was crushed into the chain link fence at that end of the rink, Jay J slipped the puck to Jack. Without any real obstacles in his way now, Jackie slid the small black disk in for a goal.

As soon as Jay had recovered herself enough to realize that they had won, Jack and Jerry pounced on her, shouting with congratulatory hugs and slaps on the back. She grinned at the stricken look on Bobby's face. "Y'know the Canadians invented Hockey, pup. Don't feel too bad."

She had to hand it to Bobby, he was a good loser. "That was some playing, kid. Where'd you learn?"

"My dad taught me on a frozen pond on the mountain." She managed to choke out between claps on the shoulder.

"No kiddin'? your Dad musta been proud of you, ya lil mountain cat." He shook her hand in acknowledgment of who was the better skater. He couldn't know it, but his words really hit a sore spot.

Jay J nodded and smiled, but left the games early. She had some business to take care of, and she didn't want Jackie to corner her on her whereabouts, again.


	4. Chapter 4

"Although I only met Ms Evelyn the one time, I can assure you she made quite an impression..."

Jack was in a cold metal seat, in a cold modern office, listen to a cold old idiot talk. His mother's lawyer. For the life of him, Jack couldn't remember the guy's name... The old bastard was droning on, something about 'how hard it is to attend mundane legal and financial matters while your heart still grieves for a loved one..' What a load of bullshit.

"How much do we get?" Jack's blunt question interrupted the middle of the white-haired guy's speech rather rudely. Bobby whacked the back of his little brother's head. "Stupid-ass Jack." "What!"

The lawyer was taken aback, he had only attempted to be sympathetic to their situation.

"Well, of course.." He moved to a desk & returned with a cold, grey metal box. "The contents of your mother's safety deposit box. I will leave you to look them over.."

Bobby began inspecting the box. He found a variety of things, old jewellry, birthday cards, old concert tickets, the deed to his mother's house.. Eventually he pulled out Jerry's adoption papers and birth certificate. Then Jack's. Jerry quickly skimmed through his documents.

"Henry Ford Hospital, so I am from Detroit... damn, my mom was 16?"

Angel looked over his brother's shoulder into the box. "Have I got any papers in there?" Bobby shook his head. "Do you have any papers in there?"

"No."

"You sure?" Bobby nodded. Pulling a wad of bills from the box, he stood up. Bobby counted out a quarter share of the money and passed it to Angel. "Here's some paper." Another quarter share went to Jerry, and Bobby pocketed the rest. He tossed Jack a necklace. "Here, that'll look pretty on ya."

"You're fucking with me, Bobby.." Growling softly, Jack stood and followed his brothers out.

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Quietly, JayJ circled around her victim again. 'Damian' was gagged and bound to a chair in his small apartment, and his eyes followed the girl in black anxiously. His two huge rottwieler 'attack dogs' lay at his feet, wagging their bobbed tails at JayJ. She cooed to the biggest one and scratched his chin, "Hey honey... you wouldn't hurt me, would ya darlin' ?" Her answer was a wet kiss on the cheek. JayJ smiled and fed 'Chuckie' another treat.

"Now Damian, I know you're a bought off witness..." JayJ stood smoothly and turned to face him. She was wearing a midnight blue costume mask and black wig with dark make up, So even if he was idiot enough to go to the police, there would not be a credible description. Assuming she didn't have to kill him, of course.. "The shooting that killed Ms Evelyn Mercer.."

A glinting steel knife in her hand kept his attention quite nicely, she could use that trick again sometime. "That wasn't some random gang banger fuck-up, now was it_ Damian_?"

She had put on a deep, overly sexy tone. Maximizing her accent and making her voice as unrecognizeable as possible. JayJ smiled sweetly. "That was an execution.. Wasn't it hon?"

A graceful, gloved hand brushed his cheek. There was a frantic, unintelligable mumbling from under the duct tape. JayJ ripped it off, the stinging brought tears to Damian's eyes.

"Who the fuck are you, bitch!" SLAP. The man's head snapped back hard.

"Learn how to talk to a _lady_ Damian. " JayJ pounced, clipping with the knife. Her fingers curled around his thick neck. There was a cut along the neckline of his hoodie, it was clean but not serious. Damian screamed. JayJ raised her blood-stained blade into his line of vision. She had discovered that few things make people more squemish than the sight of their own blood.

"I need those names, Damian.. Who gave you the money?"

He hissed. "I ain't telling you shit." Jay clicked her tongue softly and with sincere regret.

"And your eyes were so pretty too..." A drop of the man's own blood dripped off the edge of her knife, poised just millimetres away, and onto his eyelid. Damian panicked, and JayJ knew she had won. Anything else he might try would just be a stall.

"Who are you to ask?" An killer's calm, ice blue stare met his wild eyed fear. She cut a nice nick just beneath his eyebrow in answer. "Last chance Damian. You can still talk without your eyesight, darlin', so it's of no use to me." He cracked like a nut.

"Okay! Yes! I can tell you how to find them! "

JayJ purred in soft delight at her small victory.

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Sir Frankie's bar was a very smoky place. It was a typical, low-maintenance, nieghborhood club. And one of the Mercer boys' old hangouts.

"Bartender, another round for me and my brothers, and some nice warm milk for my little sister here!" Bobby clapped Jack on the shoulder and pushed his shotglass forward.

"I will drink you under the table Bobby.."

"We're not talkin' about sperm, Jack. This is whiskey."

It was a few minutes later when John M. Gregory approached the Mercer table. His stained apron was being used to dry the beer mug in his fat hand, and he sat heavily down beside Angel and Bobby Mercer.

"It's a real shame what happened to your Ma, boys. Them gangs.. " He shook his head. "Worms.."

Bobby, who by that time had had enough alcohol to mellow out a bit, looked up with interest. "Which gang, Johnny G?"

"Well from what I hear, the cops got one witness. Some kid who was playin' basketball across the street when it happened. He says.." Johnny was only to happy to tell his story, being a great gossip himself. Sir Frankie's was a great place to gather casual information, information that made Johnny a very useful contact to many people.

After the barkeep was gone, Bobby fell silent for a while. Jeremiah was the first to clue in on what his brother was thinking. "Bobby, man, just let the police do their job..."

"The police? C'mon Jerry. Guys like me used to make a real good livin' around here 'cause cops like Green and Fowler couldn't find tits in a strip joint."

"So then what? Y'all just gonna go shoot up the town 'cause y'all mad?" Jerry glanced around at the rest of his brothers. They seemed to be on Bobby's side. "You know what? The bastards that did this are probably from the same, shitty-ass streets we from. Ma would've been the first to forgive 'em and you know that."

"All I know, Jerry, is that the sweetest woman in the goddamn world is lying out there dead. The least I can do is go bang on some doors and try to find out who did this to her."

Jack nodded in agreement. "We can't all be saints, Jer."

Jeremiah sighed and got up from the table. He was outvoted in this, and he knew his brothers well. When Bobby set his mind on something, that was it. "Fine, y'all do what you gotta do. "

**A/N Ha! thx to those who reviewed... and to those that didn't... I know where you live.. (evil puppy chuckle) beware... Kk, read and review.. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Hey guys, I'm really really sorry that I haven't updated in so long. (sighs) Can you ever forgive me? (does puppy eyes) But anyways, I'm back now! (celebrates) And I hope to be posting more chappies soon. **

"Did you bring your own piece, Angel?"

The trunk of Bobby's car creaked open and the dark-haired man reached inside the clutter. After a bit or rummaging, he withdrew his hand, palming a 9 mil pistol lovingly.

"Nah, man. I flew in. Airport security, y'know."

"Well, be careful with my Baby." Bobby reloaded the gun with a fresh 10 round clip and handed it to his brother. Grabbing a large red gasoline can he shoved it into Jack's hand. "Here, hold that, Fairy."

The three boys were outside an abandoned warehouse. A known hangout for the gang supposedly (according to Johnny) resonpsible for their Mom's death. Jack glanced around and blew out a nervous breath, frosted in the cold air. This place was fucking creepy.

Somehow Bobby had found a double barreled shotgun inside the mess of his car. He checked that it was loaded, set it to safety and started to close the lid of the trunk, but Jack stopped him.

"What am I taking?"

Bobby looked at him. "Oh, you coming fairy?" He pulled out a crowbar. "Here, you can poke this at 'em."

Although he made it sound like teasing, Bobby had no intention of letting Jack do anything more than poke it. He wouldn't have to. Bobby was going to protect his kid brother, Jack should never have to use a gun. The kid wasn't made for that.

Bobby Mercer's shoulder connected with the warehouse door with a sickening thid. Old rusted hinges gave way under the impact and the door flew in, with Angel and Bobby behind it. Guns up, ready for anything. Jackie fell obediently behind.

There was a muffled commotion from deeper inside the structure. Apparently their entrance had not gone unnoticed.

Bobby smirked with satisfaction, he wanted chaos. And he knew what would cause it.

"Detroit P.D.! We've got the place surrounded!"

Angel grinned and followed his brother's lead. "That's right, get y'all asses outside! And keep your fuckin' hands up where I can see 'em!"

There was more noise and the boys glimpsed a couple people running down the halls in panic, attempting to escape the fake police takeover. Most of them were just highschool kids playing it cool, kids who couldn't afford a rap sheet if they were gonna make it straight.

Bobby discharched a shot into the cieling and put on a high, squeaky voice. "The popo's is here! They killed Cornbread, they killed him! and he didn't do nothin'!"

Flickering lights cast eerie shadows on the walls as Bobby and Angel (and Jack) burst into what was apparently the main room. In the middle of said room, a heavy set younger black man was hurriedly pushing away a scantily dressed girl in fur, alarmed by the call of police.

"Get off me, bitch!"

He was obviously the ringleader. Bobby grabbed the guy by his collar and dragged him to a chair, shoving a rag in his mumbling mouth and pushing him down hard.

"Now is not the time for talking, bitch! Now is the time for listening."

Behind him, Angel rounded up the rest of the building's occupants and sat them on a couch against the far wall. He kept his gun trained on them.

"Hey, y'all ain't cops!"

"Yo, what the fuck!"

The lid was popped off of the jerry can Jackie had brought from the car, and gas was poured liberally upon the protesting kids.

Tossing the last of the fuel on his still-mumbling captive, Bobby swapped Jack his shotgun for the burning cigarette in the boy's mouth, He had discovered that 2 things really scared people. The prospect of burning to death, and being eaten alive. Jackie watched intently as bobby used his.. persuasive abilities...

"Now you just listen up, ok? 'Cause if you don't I'ma drop this thing, light you on fire and then watch you run around here like a chicken with your head cut off, lightin' all your little friends on fire."

He gestured toward the gasoline soaked couch to emphasize, then brought the smouldering cigarette back to the gang-boss's line of vision. There was a flicker of fear in those black eyes.

"You hear me boy? Good. Now I wanna know something. Which of your boys shot up the convenience store on 34th street?"

Bobby removed the rag, but kept a firm grip on the man's collar and the cigarette butt. Desperation laced the boss's voice and he choked.

"Weren't no boys of mine! Look man, the cops don't know shit. That witness was bought!"

"What witness boy, how d'you know this?"

"There was a kid said he was playin' basketball across the street when it went down."

"So?"

"So, that shit happened at 11:00, man. And they turn the court lights out at 10!"

Bobby shared a glance with his brothers. Only hitmen paid off witnesses. That meant this shit ran deeper than a store robbery. But, how to tell if this kid was lying?

Angel glanced at his watch, it was a quarter to 10:00. Bobby had had the same idea, and was pulling his cursing prisoner towards the exit. Carefully, Angel followed. Backing out and keeping his gun ready in case those kids on the cot decided to try anything.

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Jack checked his watch again and turned back towards his brothers by the car. "10:02, Bobby!" he called.

Behind him was a well illuminated basketball court, even farther behind that was the tiny store in which his mother had spent the last few minutes of her llife.

Bobby growled and tightened his hold on his hostage's neck. "You hear that boy? 10:02 and these fuckin' lights are still on!"

The man's eyes went wild and he glanced around at his captors furtively. "They'll go off, I swear, man!"

Raising his handgun to the guy's line of vision, Bobby made as if to pull the trigger. "For your sake you better fuckin' pray they do you little lying son of a bitch-"

THWUCK. Bobby's tirade was cut off and he looked up at the sound of those large bulbs shutting off. The man in his hands became triumphant. "You see? I told y'all!"

Suddenly uninterested in what his captive had to say, Bobby became thoughtful and turned to the car. Leaving the wanna-be drug lord and motioning for Angel and Jack to follow. This required thinking... what the hell kind of bastard would want his mother dead? And why?

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-- "No fingerprints, no DNA, no semen found at the scene.. we have nothing on this guy, Grissom. He's like a ghost. "

"We're never out of evidence, Nick. Take a ghost detector, but go back and check again."

"See, I knew you were gonna say that. So I went back to that house after processing, without the ghost-trap thing though, but anyway, check this out.." --

JayJ glanced up at the living room TV long enough to switch channels from he CSI episode. Which, she had already solved anyway. "It's the husband, guys..." She muttered, flipping channels. "C'mon, he fuckin' _owns_ a pest control company, where else would you have gotten the chemicals that _fast_, huh?"

She found some old trivia game show and selected it. Returning her focus to the weapon in her lap, she resumed dismantling, cleaning, and reassembling it. The Colt Law Enforcement Carbine, less than 30 in (76.2 cm) in length, lightwieght, able to be taken apart and ressambled without tools, and with the accuracy and range of a 5.56mm rifle. Although it was designed and usually used for military combat, JayJ preferred it to other sniper-style weapons.

It was a helluva gun for such a little girl. Something Bobby could not help commenting on as he walked into the room. He tossed his coat down in a chair and Jay rolled eyes at him while finishing up with her latest toy.

"So where were you guys, huh? It's pretty late to have just finished with the lawyers."

"We were checkin' some stuff out." Angel smiled at her and took a seat in the old rocking chair. "Also stopped at Frankie's for a beer."

Bobby snorted and raised a hand. "What is this, now we gotta check in with you? Sorry kitten, but the big boys had some business to attend to."

JayJ wrinkled her nose playfully and picked up Bobby's discarded jacket. She held the sleeve, sniffed, and coughed. "This 'business' involve dumping gas on yourself?"

She grinned and threw the coat in his general direction. Jack ducked to avoid it and carefully swiped the remote, sitting down beside her on the couch.

"What is this shit?" he asked, remarking on the show that seemed to be a pre-Jeopardy screw-up.

"Just go to the fucking hockey game, Jackie." Bobby propped his feet up on the coffee table next to JayJ's gun and a couple of beer bottles. In the backgrouns Sophi slipped quietly in to settle on Angel's lap.

A couple seconds later..

"Aw, c'mon!" Bobby threw a pillow at the couple happily kissing in the corner. "Do you have to do that! We're trying to watch the game, here!"

JayJ smiled and settled deeper into her spot on the couch. She was starting to like the Mercer boys, and she was starting to feel at home.

A/N **Ok, didya like it? huh, huh? I hope ya did, I had lots of fun with it. :) Kk, remember, Reviews are inspiration for more chapters! **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Y'know, while I was writing this chapter, Marky Mark's "Good Vibrations" song came on the radio. Lol, it must've been some sort of retro segment, but anyways, it inspired me to finish up and post for you! **

ok, short dream sequence in italics here; you can skip down the page to the rest of the story if you want...

_Jay gave a soft moan and opened her eyes. Her arms ached dully from being held so long in one position, and her eyes traveled up to where the rough rope bound her wrists to the bedpost. The flesh there had been rubbed raw, but she tried again to wriggle loose._

_Failing, JayJ slumped back and simply stared up at the white ceiling and walls of her prison. There was a slow, pulsing throb of pain in her right ankle, she guessed it had probably been twisted during her last escape attempt._

_It hadn't worked. She had been caught, again. And once more found herself in this annoyingly clean and terrible room as punishment. The bed where she was tied and a small bedside table were it's only furnishings. There was one lone window, a small square of glass that only let in the morning light. And even that was covered now by freshly installed bars. And so JayJ had lost her last ray of hope, it seemed._

_But she wouldn't cry. A lump rose painfully in the young girl's throat and she swallowed it angrily. JayJ wouldn't cry over herself. She wouldn't._

_Above her she heard the chanting and singing begin. It was a sound which struck fear and hatred into her, and she once more struggled frantically against her bonds_

In present time, JayJay sat bolt upright on the couch. White static came from the TV on the other side of the room, and her breathing calmed a bit as she slowly recognized her surroundings, recovering from the nightmare. There were no white walls, she was in Ms Evie's living room. The cot squeaked slightly as, beside her, Jack shifted in his sleep. His arm fell softly across his chest, as though it had been holding something precious to him only moments before.

JayJ blushed a little as she realized that, from their position, she must have been sleeping on Jack's shoulder. The last she remembered, it was 13 minutes into the third period of their hockey game. San Jose Sharks VS Edmonton Oilers. Had Jack been awake when she nodded off on his conveniently placed arm? fuck...

Blushing a deeper shade, the blonde looked away, noticing that she had been staring at Jack Mercer's handsome face and adorably messy hair as he dozed.

Loud snoring from the corner made JayJ's head snap up. Bobby was still in his chair, and his head had fallen somewhat ungracefully onto his shoulder, in what looked like a very uncomfortable position. _Hence the snoring_, she thought. Jay smiled.

Looking around the room, she saw that the television was still playing static, and that Angel and Sophi were gone. Grinning again, she decided that she didn't really want to know what the couple had done with themselves that night.

Rising to her feet, Jay walked over to Bobby and slid the remote control out of his relaxed grip. After shutting off the Tv, the girl cautiously attempted to shift Bobby into a gentler position without waking him. Once the snoring was silenced, JayJ retrieved a couple of throw blankets from Ms Evie's hall closet.

One was carefully tucked around Bobby, and when she was finished, JayJ took a minute to survey her handiwork. Robert Mercer was an exceptionally handsome man, but not many people were allowed to see him as relaxed as he was now. His facial features were calm and peaceful, and the normally slicked-back dark hair was free and tousled. JayJ smiled to herself and decided that he looked extremely sexy that way.

Quietly draping a second blanket over Jack's prone form, the blue-eyed kid crouched down level to him. Her look softened, and she tentaively brushed away a lock of mouse-brown hair. Then, her embarrasment returning full-force, JayJ straightened. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, hugging herself against a sudden, sharp pang of sadness and loss.

Jay shivered in an attempt to be rid of the feeling. It was going to be a long day, and a hot shower sounded good.

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Jerry, Angel, Bobby and Jack waited outside a small, insignifigant store that had recently become a sad part of their lives. It was early yet, and the morning air was chilled with a Detroit winter frost. Not minding his step, Jack's foot broke through a thin layer of ice and muddy puddle water splashed up his pant leg. The boy swore under his breath and shook the soaked shoe.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Jack looked up. It was the store's owner. A small, grey-haired man.

Bobby moved toward the man hastily, and Jack saw suspicion enter the storekeeper's eyes as they rested upon his welcoming commitee.

"We are closed today..." He spoke with an Indian accent, and his words were cautious. Jack moved forward, and his quiet, polite manner softened the small man.

"Please sir, if we could just have a moment of your time. We have some questions... Evelyn Mercer was our mother.."

The man hesitated for a moment, then nodded his head and ushered them inside.

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Watching the security camera tape of his mother's death, Jack felt a surge of guilt and an accute sense of loss very similar to what JayJ had experienced earlier that day.

On the tape, were two black, hooded, figures. And although there was no sound track with the video, Jack plainly heard the shot which first struck Ms Evelyn. The echoed sound ripped through him and the figure of his mom fell lifeless on the floor.

Jack gasped against the sharpness of the pain and turned away. Tears threatened and he closed his eyes against them. It was at that moment that Bobby swore, his mother's murderers would not live to see another day.

Jerry was the first to speak after the tape ended. He addressed his questions to the storekeeper.

"Did you see the witness? Someone the cops were very interested in?"

Trying to think and remember, the older man answered carefully. "The police.. they talked to one man, one man more than the others.."

"Do you know his name?" Bobby asked, trying to rein in on his anger. The man turned to him and replied.

"No., but he comes in here often for drinks... after the game."

"What does he look like?" Angel spoke up.

"He is a big black man, and his hair..." The store owner seemed lost for the right word, and moved his hands over the top of his head, indicating lots of fluffy hair.

"You mean a 'fro? Like an afro." Angel seemed only to confuse the man further, so he tried again. "Like Ben Wallace, the basketball player?"

"Yes, yes. Ben Wallace. Also, he has a dog. And never does he wear a jacket, always sweats. Even in snow or rain."

Bobby nodded and headed for the door while Jerry thanked the little man. This description wasn't much, but it was all they had and it was enough. Bobby had worked on less before.

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With 48 points on the board, the hometeam Hotblood Racers had a comfortable lead in the middle of the third quarter. The ref's whistle blew for a penalty call, and Bobby Mercer strode out onto the court. Feeling right at home with the 6 ft 5" ballplayers, Bobby calmly picked up the loose basketball and called for attention.

"Hey y'all! Sorry to interrupt your game like this, but I was hopin' y'all could help me with somethin'..."

On the sidelines, Jerry sighed hopelessly. Then reluctantly went in to help his brother as "Boo's" and "fuck you!"s rained down from the spectators.

Bobby pulled his gun on the officials and over enthusiastic team members when they attempted to retrieve their game ball. It never ceases to amaze me the respect given to a man with a pistol.

"Now then! My name is Bobby Mercer. Some of you probably knew my mother, Ms Evelyn Mercer. And some of you probably know she was shot about a week ago! 72 yr old lady, shot down in cold blood!"

Murmers of dissent came from the crowd, and Jerry had to push aside a couple of hotheaded kids. Bobby continued his speech, unconcerned.

"I'm lookin' for the witness. Big guy, has an afro. Supposedly never wears a coat. Dog lover! Ringin' any bells?"

"Aw, damn." Five rows up in the stands, a kid stood up and started to make his way to the door. Jack saw him and took off after him for the exit. Angel noticed as well and moved to cut the boy off.

Jack threw open his door and glanced down the hallway. "Hey, hey kid!"

The boy turned, swore, and started to run. Jack grinned and gave chase. "Hey! No-," pant, "running," pant, "in the halls!" pant.

The kid got to the end of the hall, and reached for the exit handle. But the door slammed backwards into him, knocking him off balance and allowing Jack to catch the boy's arms behind his back as Angel came through the doorway.

"Hey, man! Easy!" The boy struggled against Jack's crushing grip.

"Why don't you shut up?" Jack tightened his hold and the boy grunted in pain. Angel chuckled and took the kid from his little brother.

"Go tell Bobby we got him." Jack nodded and took off, returning momentarily with Bobby and Jerry.

"What's this, fairy?"

Angel answered, nodding toward the boy pushed up against the wall.

"I think junior here heard what you had to say and was goin' to deliver a warning."

"Is that right, junior?" Bobby leaned up opposite Angel. The boy was clearly unsettled now, but wisely chose to answer Bobby.

"Yeah, the guy you're lookin' for, that's my brother Damian."

"No shit? These are my brothers."

Junior looked at each of he boys, confused. "Naw, dawg. He's my real brother."

Bobby chuckled. "Yeah, dawg, these are my real brothers. Junior, meet Angel, Jerry, and Jack Mercer." Each nodded in turn as Bobby pointed him out.

"Now, why don't you tell us where we can find your brother? We just want to talk to him."

But immediately, the boy clammed up. Bobby studied him and nodded in approval.

"It's okay, I wouldn't rat out my brother, either."

Jack took the boy's backpack and after a few seconds of searching, he pulled out a report card and envelope with an address printed on the back. Bobby took the envelope, and Jack glanced over the report card.

"These are nice grades." He pet the kid on the shoulder before leaving with his brothers. "Stay in school."

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"Okay, you're going to have to dance for Mr. Snowpeck, the owner. But if you're half as good as you were for me, then you're definitely in."

JayJ grinned at her friend and gave her a quick hug. "Thank you so much, Lucy. I really owe you. You have no idea how important this job is to me."

Lucy went to talk to her boss and JayJ turned back to the mirror to finish her midnight blue, twinkling costume. Night club dancing, this was a new cover for her. And this make-up was proving itself a bit tricky to apply...

But yes, you don't know what Jay's doing working at a strip joint, do you? Well, you see, this is the clup that Damian pointed her too. This is the place that her targets supposedly hang out, and these hits are very personal to JayJ.

Tying the last strap on her high-heeled sandal, JayJ stood and turned in front of the mirror. Haha, what would Bobby think if he saw her dressed this way? 


	7. Chapter 7

_'Don't mind if it rains or freezes, '_

_ 'As long as I've got my plastic Jesus, '_

_ 'Sitting on the dashboard..'_

_'It come is colours pink and pleasant...'_

_'It glows in the dark-'_

"Oi, Jackie, do you _have_ to sing??" Bobby was glaring at Jerry's retreating form through the frosted car window, clearly not happy that he had been ditched for a gymnastics lesson.

"That's him.." Jack turned from where he had been doodling on the window as they waited for Damian to show up.

"Bobby, that's _him_!" he cried, pointing to a dark figure with big hair, a heavily bandaged throat and an eyepatch who was walking towards the building.

"Nice eyes, Jackie-boy! Let's go." The three Mercers burst from Bobby's car and headed towards their Fluffy-haired victim. Bobby shouted, and Damian turned his head. Spotting them, he swore and ran towards the door to his apartment building; not waiting to see what the boys wanted.

Damian ran for the elevator and got the doors shut as Jack, Angel and Bobby blasted doon the corridor. Bobby swore and looked around for a stairwell. "Stay here and tell us where it stops, Jack!"

Sprinting up the stairs with Angel close on his heels, Bobby pulled out his gun. While he definately wanted this guy alive, Bobby would much rather see the fucker dead than lose his own or one of his younger brothers' lives. As a matter of fact, maybe he would kill him after they were done anyways... It was about time _somebody_ paid for his Mom's death.

"Six! He stopped on level six!!" Jack's voice floated up the stairwell, and Bobby cursed. They were barely to level four.

Inside his apartment, Damian was moving around hurriedly and carelessly, swearing under his breath and searching for his gun. The excited barking of his dogs told him of Bobby's arrival and instead of doing the smart thing and quietly slipping out the window, Damian promptly stuck his head out of the door of his apartment and exchanged bullets with the Mercer brothers.

"Son of a Bitch!" Bobby ducked down as Damian's fluffy head retreated. Only to be replaced a few seconds later by a snarling rottwieler mix. Bobby yelped as the dogs charged him, and promptly switched his gun from Damian to the canines.

"Yeah, boys! Sic 'em! Get that Son of a bitch! Get 'em! Hey, man!!! DON'T SHOOT MY DOGS!!!!" Damian's encouraging calls turned to fear as Bobby emptied a couple rounds into the floor where the dogs had been just seconds before. But now they were all over Bobby, snarling and yipping as he landed the occasional blow. Seeing the fight going his way, Damian gave a few departing shots and then tried to slip back through into his apartment.

"Angel! Angel, get the motherfuckers off me!!" Angel responded quickly, and grabbing a large fire extinguisher off the wall, he sprayed Bobby until the dogs backed off.

"Come on now! Get up off my brother little boy!" He backed the mutts into a corner and left them yelping over the stinging foam in their eyes.

"Fuck! They fuckin' bit me!! Damn you worthless little-" But whatever else the dogs were, Bobby never said. His eyes traveled up to the closed door where Damian had disappeared, and with a snarl he lunged for it.

The door was bolted; no surprise. But Bobby was sufficiently pissed off enough now that he broke it down without Angel's help. Jack, who had come up the stairs in time to see Angel get the dogs, followed them into the apartment, but quickly ducked back down when shots echoed from the direction of the window. He glanced up in time to see fluffy hair disappear down a rope ladder tied to the bedpost. Bobby jumped for the window and shot at the dangling figure, but missed, and Damian returned fire.

Mad as hell, and with his normally slicked-back hair now sticking up at odd angles, Bobby Mercer glanced feverishly around the shabby apartment. His eyes lit on a small hatchet laying on a nearby table, and he snatched it up with almost maniacal glee. Before Jack or Angel could stop him, Bobby hacked through the rope pulled taut over the window.

There was an awful screaming, and then a sickening thud. Carefully, Jack peered out the window as Bobby's chest heaved and Angel stared.

"Did you hafta kill him?" Bobby didn't answer Angel, but he dropped the hatchet as though it burned.

"Guys?" Jack turned from the window. "I think he's still alive."

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The moaning figure lay on the bloodstained snow, his right leg at a crazy angle. Jack thought he could see a chunk of bone sticking out the side as he approached. He shuddered.

Bobby strode up to the prone figure and looked down with contempt. Damian groaned.

"Good Gad, man! Call an ambulance!"

"What, for my dog bites?" Bobby glanced at his bleeding arm. "Nah, I think I'll heal."

"Come on man, stop playin'!"

"I'm not. You're gonna tell us who bought you off as a fake witness, unless you want to freeze out here."

"Hey, man, Fuck you!"

Bobby shrugged and turned to leave, Jack and Angel following.

"Wait!" Damian screamed. "You wouldn't.."

"Wanna bet your life on it? It's mighty cold out here, and ain't nobody gonna hear you in this wind." Damian considered Jack's words for a moment, and he whimpered.

"Damn man! What is with all this shit! Some guy paid me some money to tell the police they was part of some gang, and my life's been nothin' but fuckin' hell since!!" The man was hysterical, and he clapped a hand over his throat as if the memory of JayJ could cut him again. "First that freakin' insane bitch and now you-!"

Bobby surveyed the man with a disgusted interest. "Oh yeah? What bitch?"

"The crazy one who was dressed like fuckin Halloween or something.. Kept cursing me about 'Ms Evie' or some shit..." Damian was blubbering now. "She fuckin _bewitched_ my dogs, man!! They wouldn't touch her!"

The mention of his mother got Bobby's full attention. Somebody else was already on the trail of his mother's killers... Somebody else was already that much closer to finding them. "What did you tell this chick? is that how you got those cuts? what did she look like?"

"She was hot, man. She was fuckin' hot, wearing blue and black. And a mask. Dark hair, blue eyes too man. I told her to go to Thompson's Bar. That's where you'll find 'em. Just, please call the fuckin' ambulance!!"

**Sorry it took so long to update, guys. I know this is pretty short, but I promise the next will be a lot longer to make up for it! read'n'review ppls, and thanks for sticking with this story, you guys are the best.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey ppls! I missed ya. **

**Some review responses, (long overdue, I know. I apologize, sincerely) **

** ok, somebody asked how old Jack was. Let's say about 21, ok? He is so sexy. :) **

** And somebody asked when they were gonna find out it's JAyJ, you mean find out that JAyJ was the one who roughed Darian up? if so, then yup, they will in the next chappie.**

** K ppls, enjoy and thx for liking the story!**

Well, as strip joints go, this one wasn't really anything special. As a matter of fact, Jay J thought, this one was actually a little bit corny. Kind of a flash-back to '70s Go-go dancing and the disco era. Weird.

Taking one more turn about the pole in her stilettos, swishing her hips in time to the loud music, Jay kept one wary eye on the bar at the other end of the club. There were 2 men there who fit the description Damian had given her. One had a long scar across his cheek bone.

"Hey Baby!" Jay looked down at her audience. One man was standing up close to the stage, enjoying himself. "Show us somethin' new, honey!"

Jay J smirked at him and, bracing the metal bar, leaned back, slowly lifted one leg until it reached high up in the air and the 6 inch heel passed her head. Slowly turning she caught the metal with her outstretched leg and seductively pulled herself into a rhythmic spiral down the pole, pirouetting on one delicate foot. The man appeared entranced, and Jay J risked another glance toward the men. They looked like they were about to leave. Shit.

Quickly disentangling herself, Jay stood and signaled to Lucy. The girl nodded and ducked behind a huge set of controls in the corner of the club. Instantly the place went almost completely dark, and new music came on. It was faster and much more exciting than what had been playing before, and on cue a soft blue spotlight hit the stage runway. Jay walked to the end of the strip, and kicked off the stilettos. She did another graceful pirouette on tip-toe, reaching her arms up and tangling them while her head went down and her hair fell over her eyes.

Then the full white spotlight hit her and the music shifted. It was one of her compilations, with an Asian feel to it but a hip hop beat. As she hoped, the men had stopped dead when the light died, and were now far too enthralled with her performance to move.

Far in the back, unnoticed by Jay J or anybody else, Bobby Mercer and his brothers entered the smoky, dim-lit bar.

Feeling the rhythm again, Jay J moved with it. Dark, wavy hair bounced around her full breasts, stomach muscles gleamed and danced in the light, her hips hitting each beat and making the sparkly, flimsy skirt she had on wrap about her long legs in a sensual dance. Lucy flicked a switch and the Strobe lights flashed, each flicker showing the dancer on stage in a different exotic pose. The music swelled and culminated in a loud thundering crash, accompanied by a split second of Darkness. And when the spotlight came back, the stage was deserted.

Backstage, Jay moved fast, taking off her brown wig and starting to remove the costume. She knew those fuckers wouldn't wait long to wonder where she'd gone, and she had to follow them when they left.

Sudden yelling and crashing brought her head up with a snap.

_Bobby?!!! _"Son of a-"

Forgetting that she was only half dressed, Jay ran into the main room of the club. She saw the back of Bobby's head and Angel and Jack as they chased her prey out the door and into the parking lot. Jay followed, swearing under her breath.

She saw them jump into their cars and she went for her own, frantically grabbing for the spare set of keys she kept under her seat. Shots echoed and tires squealed, and the chase was on.

Jay J didn't dare chance a shot at the fleeing vehicles, for fear she'd hit the Mercers. She could see Angel's head and upper body hanging out the window as they drove.

Bobby's old Chev slid crazily down the icy Detroit road at full speed. Not that the car in front of them was doing much better on the slick surface. A shotgun blast fired, and Bobby whooped.

"Yeah, that's right Angel! Shoot them motherfuckers!" Angel drew the escaping car up into his sights again, but the right wheel of the car hit a particularly slick patch of ice at that moment, and his chance was ruined as Bobby's vehicle slid crazily sideways into another car parked by the side of the road.

Cursing angrily, Bobby got the steering wheel under control and sped off again. In the back seat, Jack swore and yelled at his brother to stop the damn car, not that Bobby paid attention. He was thoroughly pissed and he swore at Angel to stop those bastards. Apparently Angel felt the same way, his next shot brought the preceding car to an abrupt stop. Upside down. In a snowbank. After being rolled several times.

Jay saw the car flip and she saw two men trying to crawl out of it. She saw Bobby and Angel jump out of the Chev and walk over to them. She was out of the car and running towards Jack when she heard the two shots which signaled the end of Ms. Evie's killers.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jack flinched and turned his back on the two dead men with his brothers standing over them, feeling suddenly sick. Jay J skidded to a halt beside him, and he looked up briefly when she grabbed his shoulders.

"You okay? Are you hurt?" Jack didn't answer and Jay J looked him over quickly for herself. Then she turned to Bobby.

"_Robert Mercer you son of a bitch! _"

"Jay?!!" Bobby stopped dead. And gaped. So did Angel. Jay J threw herself at him and slugged him in the mouth.

"You _ruined it!_" Bobby fell back in shock. Angel grabbed the nearly-naked girl before she could hit him again, but Jay J continued to scream. "What the hell did you do! They're DEAD!"

"You just hit me!" Bobby spat blood on the snow and rubbed his jaw. "Of course they're dead, kid. They killed my mother! I wasn't gonna fuckin' let 'em live after that!!"

Jay J struggled against Angel's crushing grip. She dug her elbow into his solar plexus, but the ex-marine barely winced. "Don't you get it? They were paid to do it, Bobby! They were just puppets. And you just killed my only link to their boss-" She choked against Angel's arm, losing the rest of her rant. Jack put a hand on Angel's shoulder, and he let Jay J go. She fell forward in the snow, and then they all froze. Police sirens.

Jack picked Jay J up by the arm and started pulling her back towards her car. "Come on... We've gotta get outta here."


	9. Chapter 9

**Ok, Ok, so its the shortest chapter I've posted yet, but it just didn't seem to fit at the end of the last chapter or the beginning of the next, so here goes;**

SLAM.

Bobby was not happy, and the oak door, if no one else, now knew that. His jaw hurt, his car was almost wrecked, his hand was still bleeding where that damn dog had sunk its teeth. And, to top it all off, his hair was still fuckin' messed up. So now he took an opportunity to vent some of that rage on the one person who had most recently dared to tempt his wrath.

"Jay J! You sit your naked ass down in here, NOW!!"

Finally remembering her lack of real clothes, Jay J blushed. But she was still just a little too pissed off to do anything about that just yet.

"Who do you think you _are_? My _father?_"

Her tone was svelte, biting, taunting, but Bobby was not to be messed with. Jack and Angel wisely decided not to become entangled, and took posts silently at opposite ends of the room.

"You better pray to hell I'm not! I'd whip your ass, kid. What were you doing in that place? You don't actually _work_ there-"

"Fuck no!" She closed the space between her and Bobby and glared at him, her face inches from his. "I was _trying_ to keep an eye on some bastards that were gonna lead me to somebody, but you kinda _killed them for me_!"

Bobby leaned forward menacingly, closing the gap between them to mere centimeters. Jay J could almost smell his cologne. It was a nice smell.

"Kid, if those were pros, you coulda threatened, seduced, bribed, or tortured; you could have ripped their fuckin eyes out and they still woulda never said a word."

He pushed her suddenly to the couch. She yelped in surprise.

"Gang brothers, now they're not as easily intimidated as our friend Damian."

Jay abruptly forgot her anger at being so roughly handled, and glanced up sharply.

"Yeah, you didn't think I knew about him, huh?" Bobby smirked. "I noticed that wig you were wearing at the club tonight, matched up with the bastard's story. You did pretty good with him, kid."

Jay stood up to face him again, opening her mouth to retort. But Bobby raised a finger to her lips and she blinked in shock, the words dying in her throat.

Bobby leaned closer, and his lips pulled up into the softest smile. Damn, but he had a nice mouth.

"But..."

His voice was soft...

"You can't strip dance worth a _damn_, baby."

What the-? Son of a-! Oh no he did _not!_

**SMACK. **

_Dammit, there's that headache again..._

Jay J's heels clicked angrily on the hardwood floor, receding in the direction of her bedroom, while Bobby stared after them in shock.

All was silent for a moment...; but then a snicker escaped Jack, and then he and Angel were laughing loudly in the deafening silence.

Bobby shot them a dirty look.

"Ha, I'm sorry man, but.." Angel grinned. "You shoulda seen the look on your face!"

Without deigning to offer another word to either of them, Bobby stormed off up the stairs in a manner very reminiscent of one blonde bombshell.


	10. Chapter 10

When Bobby came down the stairs that morning, he was still sulking. When he saw Jay J in the kitchen making coffee, he was still angry. But, Bobby had had enough fights with women to know that he was probably gonna have to be the one to apologize. And, while it was true that it had been a long time since he had been close enough to a girl for one of these fights to happen; Still, he thought he remembered how it was done. Quietly, Bobby entered the kitchen and leaned up on the counter next to Jay.

She had changed out of the club costume and into a light blue cami with black silk shorts. One of Ms Evelyn's satin robes was draped over her shoulders, and Bobby thought he should be angry about that, but he wasn't. Maybe he understood how much she missed Evie. That thought softened him a bit.

"Hey, look, kid. About last night.." He cleared his throat before going on, and lifted his left arm to reach up and rub the back of his neck. Jay J was watching him, and something on his hand caught her eye. She cocked her head.

"You're hurt."

Bobby glanced down at his hand, covered with caked blood. He had been so mad last night that he had forgotten it. As a matter of fact, he had barely taken his coat and shoes off before falling into his mom's bed. He was still wearing yesterday's clothes.

"Shit, are those bites?" Jay reached out and caught his rough hand. Her hands were soft and gentle. Bobby swallowed.

"Uh, heh. Yeah. those damn mutts of Damian's..." Jay J examined the puncture wounds on his hand carefully, and started pulling his sleeve back. Bobby was surprised to see bites the entire length of his forearm. He hadn't noticed that. Jay J sucked in a sympathetic breath and ran her thumb over one of the wounds.

"God, if I'd have known they were that mean, I woulda shot 'em before." Jay J glanced up at Bobby with a small, apologetic smile. "Sorry."

Bobby cleared his throat, again, unsure of how to answer. He remembered now what Damian had said; 'She fuckin _bewitched_ my dogs, man! They wouldn't touch her!' Well, must be nice. They had seemed only too eager to rip into Bobby.

Pulling his arm, Jay led Bobby to the kitchen table gently and made him sit.

"Take off your shirt."

"What?"

"Just take it off, tough guy."

She disappeared then, and returned with a warm, wet cloth and some foul-smelling disinfectant.

"Woah, you've been working out." Jay J's eyes sized up Bobby's toned torso as she poured disinfectant onto the cloth. He had a couple of professional tattoos, from where she stood she could see lettering across the top of his back, she couldn't read it, tho. "Ok, this might sting a little-"

"Agh! _ya think_??" Bobby winced. "What the fuck is that shit?"

"Iodine and Vodka."

"_Excuse me_?"

Jay J smiled a little. "Well you asked."

Bobby yelped and snatched his arm away as she poured a more liberal dose onto a particularly sore area of his hand. Jay J rolled her eyes. "Oh come on. Stop being such a baby, Bobby."

"Baby Bobby?" Jack's tousled head poked around the corner at just that moment. He grinned. "Looks like you two made up. Huh Bobby, baby?"

Bobby snarled muttered some vulgar comment about fairies under his breath. Angel decided to make his appearance then, heading straight for the coffee pot. Sophie came in behind him, walking stiffly. She was dressed in one of Angel's over sized T-shirts. Bobby opened his mouth to comment, but Sofie silenced it with a vicious look. But she smiled at Jay J and patted her on the shoulder. "You up all night, sweetie?"

Jay J yawned and nodded, lifting her gaze from Bobby's arm (which she was being considerable more gentle to). Sofie gave the girl a motherly hug, glaring at Bobby over the top of Jay J's head. "Okay, how about I fix breakfast and clean up today, alright? Then you can have a nap."

Jay J smiled and accepted. She liked Sophie. It had been a while since she'd had a female friend her own age, and Sofie was spunky.

Just then a knock sounded at the door. Angel walked over and glanced out the peephole, then called into the kitchen. "It's Green, and he's got his boy, Fowler."

Bobby's head jerked up and he swore. "Jay J, find something to cover my arm, would ya?"

She nodded, but the knock sounded again. Not enough time to run up to his room and get a clean shirt... Grinning, Jay J shucked off the red robe and draped it over Bobby's bare back.

"Aw, come on!"

"Would you just get into the living room and act bored?"

Bobby muttered the whole way to the couch. "Okay Angel, show 'em in..."

When Green entered the room, Bobby was reclining lazily on his mother's couch. He sized up Bobby's outfit and grinned. "That's really your color."

Bobby took it in stride. "Yeah, would you believe it? Jackie wanted this little number for himself, but I fought him for it."

Green chuckled, and from behind him Fowler cleared his throat, bringing his superior back to the business at hand. Green nodded.

"I'm not gonna bullshit you, Bobby. We're here about a couple of dead guys and a flipped car over on 34th last night. They were suspects in your Mom's murder. You know anything about that?"

Bobby's eyes got wide and innocent. "Nah uh. But remind me to thank the son of a bitch."

Fowler stepped out from behind Green, he looked pissed. "What about that little blonde kid?"

Bobby blinked. "Who?"

Fowler took another step, and his eyes were mean. He pulled a small bag with an evidence seal out of his pocket and held it up. "You know what this is?"

"A hair from your wife's tit?"

"Try from that bitch's head! It was found on the bodies at the site."

For a second Bobby faltered. Were they going to make Jay J take the fall? No way. Not while he was here. But then, Jay J hadn't gone near the bodies...

Bobby looked up, right past Fowler to Green. "Come on man, you think I'm gonna fall for that? Bringin' phony evidence out here to get a confession? If you had anything on me or her or anybody you'd have them in a holding cell right now."

Green smiled and nodded, pleased. It had been Fowler's idea to try the trick, and Green hadn't stopped him because the kid needed to learn a lesson. Bobby Mercer was no idiot. Not that Green had any illusions about him being innocent, but he wasn't gonna bust him for it. In Bobby's place, he probably would've done the same.

But Fowler was pissed. He moved the rest of the way across the room and glared down at Bobby. "I know that kid did this and this time I'm going to get her for it!"

Bobby stood up slowly, menacingly. He looked down at Fowler, who was a good 3 inches shorter, and backed the rookie up. Showing him just how big a mistake he had made.

"Look, you wanna pin this on her, you go ahead and try. But I'll tell you now she did _not_ kill those bastards. Jay J was here, with me, all night, and my brothers will tell you the same. The spanish loco in there too." He gestured towards the kitchen where Sofie and Jay were eavesdropping through the door. "And if you want Jay J for this, boy, you go through me."

With this statement, Angel stepped up beside his brother, with Jack close behind. It was clear from their expressions what they meant; _'And then you'll have to go through me, and me.' _And by the time you got to Jerry you'd be no more than a cute little box of pieces for burying.

Seeing that he was about to lose his rookie partner, Green stepped forward, getting himself between Fowler and Bobby. "Alright, I believe you."

He took Fowler by the shoulder and steered him towards the door. "Nice talkin', boys."

Once Fowler was outside, Green turned back to Bobby. "Look, man. I'm sorry about that. But you should just let me do my job. I'll get 'em for you."

Bobby nodded. "You're a good cop, Green. You'd try."

Nodding softly, Detective William Green put on his hat and went out the door.

The brothers stood for a moment in silence. Then Jack spoke up.

"You think he's actually got Jay J?"

Bobby shook his head. "No, the little bitch hasn't got a thing."

Another moment of silence while Bobby shucked off the robe. Then Angel grinned. "And, uh, if they ask, just what do we tell them you two were doing together, alone, _all _night?"

Jay J blushed scarlet and Bobby's laughter echoed through the door.


	11. Chapter 11

New chapter, chapter 10

Cool, calm precision. Steady hand. One finger on the trigger. Squeeze, don't jerk. Both eyes on target. Both eyes lined up with the sight. Ok, steady... right... Now.

CRACK

The report of the gun was the signal of death, but it was only heard by Jay J. Effective silencers were a great thing, $19.95 at the local pawn shop.

400 yards below the church tower, one known murderer and drug lord dropped in his tracks with only a small bullet hole above his left breast. It was kind of ironic, he had just come from the cemetery where he'd been attending his mother's funeral.

Ah well, another job done. It was a gorgeous day today.. Jay J leaned back and let the sun warm her shoulder as she disassembled her weapon. She placed the pieces in their case, and slid it into her black leather bag next to her make-up kit and wallet. Below her she could hear the screams as the other funeral-goers found their dead comrade. Somebody was yelling for somebody else to call 911, and Jay J took that as her cue. She left the bell tower and emerged on the church steps in a matter of seconds, blending in with the growing crowd. Today Jay J looked very professional; black velvet kitten-heel boots, a gentle brown tweed pencil skirt, and brown silk blouse. All of which was covered by a soft leather trench coat, matching leather gloves, and a stylishly old fashioned sharp hat over her lightly pony tailed fair hair. Jay J would not have looked out of place in court, at the office, or perhaps an old 1950's mystery. Elementary, my dear Watson. Elementary.

A fair-sized crowd was gathering at the cemetery entrance. Jay J's lips quirked into a dry smile as she left the churchyard, with her black leather bag safely in tow. She hailed a cab and heard sirens in the distance. Her client should be very happy today.

The cab dropped Jay J off at a small park six blocks away. She took a disposable cell phone out of the black bag, and punched in a memorized and soon-to-be-forgotten number.

"Hello?"

"Rance, darling." Jay J spoke with a perfectly produced sleek, British, London-slums accent. "Might I suggest you watch the news tonight? There should be something to spark your interest."

"So it's done, then?" The voice on the other end of the line sounded nervous but thrilled. "Nothing went wrong? They can't trace it back to us?"

"Not unless you go tell them your bloody self, though they likely wouldn't believe you if you did. Now, I want you to wire $1o,000 to my account in Florida, could you do that for me, love?" Her fake voice was dripping with sugary fake sweetness, and he went for it hook, line and sinker.

Oh, clueless, rich, fat old white guys bored with their wives and hanging on to a grudge... Haha, Jay J loved them, they probably provided half her income. She grinned and dropped the useless phone in a trash barrel on the way from the park. Her banker in Florida knew to expect the exchange, and if it wasn't delivered he would be phoning. At which point Rance would learn the dangers of trying to screw with her, and a lot of good the lesson would do him from the grave... But Jay J doubted it would come to that. Rance was too stupid and too honest, he would probably spend the rest of his life haunted by what he'd just had done today. Maybe he would turn himself over to the police from a guilty conscience. But even if he did, and even if they believed his confession, it could never be traced to her. Jay J was careful that way.

She caught a bus home at 6, after having spent the day doing various bits of research on Life Insurance policies. When she got to Ms Evie's, the place was a mess. Sofie had been cooking all day, and aside from that, the place was covered with guns. For a moment Jay J thought Bobby had raided her stash, but on a second glance, Jay J didn't recognize any of the weapons as hers.

"Damn, man, what'd you guys do? Rob an armory?" Jay J picked up a stray AK 47 from the coffee table and grinned. How bizarre a sentence was that?

"Well hello baby, when'd you get home?" Angel gave Jay J a quick peck on he cheek as he came into the living room and away from Sophie's culinary fiasco in the kitchen.

"Just now. Where'd you..?"

"Heeeey baby! Nice hat." Bobby came in just behind Angel and tossed him a shotgun and a semi-automatic at the same time. Jay J ducked the exchange while wondering when she had become 'Baby'.

"Yeah, thanks.. you guys didn't do anything illegal for- _Hey_, is that a Bulldog?"

Jay J abruptly forgot her lecture on the sanctity of the law, in favor of snapping the gorgeous little short-snouted Magnum revolver from Bobby's hand.

She fingered the gun lovingly and purred while Bobby watched with one eyebrow raised. He leaned a little closer to Angel, whispering "I think she's in love," out of the side of his mouth.

Angel laughed and clapped a hand on Bobby's shoulder. "Don't take it too hard, bro."

Bobby shot Angel a look and moved to retrieve his gun from Jay J. He lifted it it gingerly from her palm with thumb and forefinger, and Jay J started to protest. Bobby ignored her. She sulked.

"Ok _fine_. Where _did_ you guys steal all this shit?"

"We payed a little visit to our dead friends' apartment."

"The hitmen?"

"Yup."

Bloody damn. Bobby had beat her to it, and he couldn't help rubbing it in.

"I was kinda surprised you weren't there, to tell you the truth. Ms 'Professional'..."

"Oh, shut up. I had a hit today, for your information. I was gonna toss their place tomorrow."

"Oh? Looks like I beat you to the goodies.. Who'd you whack today?"

"Some poor bastard named Sweet. Worth ten G's, apparently. How'd you like to have that price on your head?" Jay J made a sideswipe at the gun, but Bobby jerked it out of stealing range. Dammit.

"That a Arthur Sweet?"

"He a friend of yours or something?"

"If he was, would you apologize?"

"Nah, he was a jackass anyways." She eyed the toy dangling inches above her like a carrot on a string. "Although, if you gave me the gun..."

Bobby chuckled. "Not _that _important." He blocked another one of Jay's moves on the handgun. "More of an acquaintance, really."

"Good, 'cause I checked him out, and he's a real sonofabitch." Jay took a swipe at Bobby's arm, and he held the gun behind his back. "Well, he _was, _anyways."

"Yup, that's how I remember old Arthur."

"Lovely." Jay J stood with her arms crossed over her chest, pouting. "So what'd you find at the apartment? Aside from the Marine stash."

Bobby held the Magnum thoughtfully, then shook out the empty chamber and began shelling in a fresh round from his pocket. He flicked his wrist and it snapped back into place, it looking fairly innocent for such a deadly weapon. Bobby handed it to Jay J. "Why don't you come along and find out?"

Jayden smiled sweetly, and accepted the gift.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N This new chapter is dedicated to my new biggest, perkiest fan. :P Thx Ceri!

Lawyer What's-his-name's house was not too shabby. Well, it was shabby _now, _with Bobby, Angel, Jerry and Jack ripping everything in sight to fucking pieces... but through the mess the sense of a productive lifestyle was still there. Jayden turned away from where Bobby was tearing up a sofa cushion, and rolled her eyes.

"I saw that." Bobby whispered.

"Really? Why don't I care?" Jayden retorted. She was dressed in midnight black sweats and a ski hat. The thing Canadians referred to as a 'took'. Bobby said that if she said 'beauty, eh?' one more time he was gonna slap her into her next three lifetimes. To which Jayden replied, 'Cool, I was getting kinda tired of this one anyways.'

"Isn't breaking and entering a Class B Felony?"

Bobby muttered; _blondes. _

Jay J hit him over the head with a shoe.

(Ow! Shit!)

"What are we doing here anyways? I'm fucking bored!"

"Well next time you can STAY HOME!"

"No!" Jay J pouted. "You're cruel."

"And you're as bad as Sofi.. Don't women ever shut up?!"

"Hey, Bobby!"

"_What _Jack?"

"C'mere."

Jack sat in front of a flat computer screen that glowed bright in the darkness of the house. Bobby looked, but it was just the Lawyer's day planner. "What?" Jack rolled his eyes and pointed at the screen.

" Ms EVM, 10:00 pm wednesdays and fridays. So?"

"EVM, Bobby. Don't you think that stands for Evelyn Mercer??"

A light bulb went on in Bobby's brain.

And a light bulb came on outside. There was the blast of a car horn, and the boys could hear Sofi screaming outside. The fiery latina was _really _not happy about something...

"What the fuck is that?"

"That's your girl, Angel."

"Well shut her up, then!"

"God, why does she act like that? You don't see Jay J out there in fuckin' hysterics!"

"I'm _this_ close to 'em, Bobby!"

The lights in the neighbor's houses were starting to come on, as Jay J and the others filed outside to Sophi's screeching. Bobby started cursing, and Sophi yelled some more, and Angel got between them, and this was the scene that Lawyer Who-ever saw as he entered his driveway that night with Beethoven's 'the Fur Elise' playing on his soundsystem and whiskey on his breath.

Bobby saw the headlights of the oncoming SUV, and before the overwieght, middle-aged man could say "Your Honor," he was yanked bodily from his car and pinned on his back in the snow.

"I say, what is this all about??" He demanded. "You can't do this! I-"

"Look man, I don't care. You're our mother's lawyer, right?" A light of recognition came to the old man's eyes.

"Well yes, but if it's a legal matter surely we could discuss it tomorrow in my offi-"

"No. Look, you sonofabitch. You lied to us. You said you only met our mother once, right? Well that's not true, is it?"

"I-I swear, I've no idea what you're talking about-"

"Oh no?" Bobby pinned his catch harder into the snow, and yanked up the man's shirt, exposing a mass of pale white skin to the cold air. Behind him, Jay J stifled a shocked grin. "Well you better remember, because it's mighty cold out here tonight, isn't it Angel? Someone might get frostbite."

"B-Boys... I promise you, I simply do not-"

There was a sharp slapping sound as Bobby's bare hand connected with stomach skin. "Look at that, Angel. Doesn't that leave a nice handprint?" He did it again. "Yeah, that's a beauty."

"All Right!! all right... " The intoxicated man was practically in tears as he choked. "Your mother.. your mother and I were.. well, we were.. _seeing_ each other.. you know, socially.."

The look on Bobby's face was.. beyond priceless. Jay J cracked up. The other boys looked stunned. Bobby, forgetting his anger, apologised profusely and helped his quarry back to his feet. The drunk man hiccupped and waved it off as temporary insanity caused by grief.

Jay J was gasping for air in the background. Bobby turned, snatched her wrist, and marched over to the car where Sophi stood speechless. He got in, pulled Jay J in, and ordered Sophi angrily to drive. Angel got in the front seat, and they left Jerry and Jack to sort out their Lawyer friend's intoxicated and affronted feelings.

In the car, Jay J's mirth had died abruptly. Bobby had yanked her right up into his lap, and the hand on her wrist was crushingly tight. He seemed to enjoy having the tables turned, and Jay J wriggled in his grip.

"Would you mind telling me what was so goddamned funny?"

"Nothing, it's just- well, I coulda _told_ you they were going out..." She broke his wrist-hold and tried to scoot off his lap, but Bobby pinned her to his chest.

"What? Why the hell didn't you?!"

"Well, 'cause, you never asked..." Jayden dug her elbow into his stomach, and he grunted softly. "Would you let me _go_?"

"No."

Such a simple statement, really. Why did it make her sit stock-still? and was it something in his voice that made her heart pounding at twice the normal rate? Jay J swallowed and asked. ".. why?"

"Shh." Breath on her neck, shivers up and down her spine. Why did this all feel so maddeningly cliché? Damn!

"Um.. Bobby?"

"What?" The sound was muffled, like Bobby's mouth was busily doing something else when he spoke.

"um... _oh_. wow. Nevermind..."

In the front seat, Angel and Sophi exchanged knowing grins.


	13. Chapter 13

**a/n hey guys. I just wanted to let you know, I appreciate all of you. remember, reviews are inspiration. I heart u guys!**

**-this chapter is dedicated to a friend of mine who recently passed away. It was written while listening to tim mcgraw's 'She's my kinda Rain' and miranda lambert's 'There's a Wall', and 'Love your Memory tonight'.. I recommend turning one on while you read, if you can get over the serious country twang.. ;)**

**-**

**-**

It was late at night, and everyone else was asleep. There was a general feeling of frustration in the house, and the remnants of tension were palpable as JayJ climbed the stairs from her basement bedroom and entered the main living area of the house. She shut her door quietly and turned the corner to the living room, headed for the refrigerator and sustenance. She had an odd craving for strawberries and whipped cream, not generally one of her usual indulgences.

The TV in the living room was on, showing some kind of game show with scantily clad blondes in a hot tub. Bobby lay prone on the couch, apparently dead to the world.

While casting a questioning glance to his choice of late night entertainment, JayJ rolled her eyes and worked her way through the general clutter and semi-darkness in his direction. Carefully sliding the remote from his lax grip, JayJ set it stealthily on the coffee table, careful to make as little sound as possible in the late gloom. Her hand unintentionally brushed Bobby's cheek as she leaned over him to reach down precariously for the blanket tangled around by his feet, and she felt a shiver. Bobby shifted suddenly in his sleep, and without warning JayJ fell with a solid thud to the floor between the cot and coffee table. Her hand found a candy wrapper, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust at the chocolate melting on her finger. Bobby snored, and she froze; her heart beating ten times faster than she could ever remember. (even including the time she'd been hidden in a closet during that drug deal last year.)

There was no further sound from the couch.

Breathing a sigh of relief, JayJ got up and proceeded to untangle the blanket restlessly. Once it was free, she spread it carefullyand quickly over Bobby's sleeping form.

But as she started to turn away, something very strong and very silent closed suddenly over her wrist. She let out a stifled squeak as Bobby yanked her unceremoniously into his lap.

"Robert Mercer!" She let out an exasperated breath and a few whispered expletives and struggled to get free. "You scared me half to death!"

He was grinning, and when she saw his mirth, she started to laugh. He pulled her higher into his grip and put his mouth close to her ear, whispering;

"What's wrong, kid? The pro gettin spooked more easily these days?"

JayJ let out a mock gasp of insult, and turned to slug him playfully in the chest. Bobby laughed and blocked the assault, holding her small fist him his larger, rougher hand... and then, for no reason at all, he pulled her close and kissed her.

The gasp that escaped her lips this time could be no mockery. She froze in surprise, and more than a little fear.

Because of her stiffness, Bobby pulled away apologetically... or, as apologetically as Bobby, who apologizes for nothing, possibly could. He cocked his head and stared at her in confusion, and for a moment she simply stared back.

They sat like that, her in his lap, her fist raised against his chest, and him with his arms around her. The oddity of their arrangement, and other thoughts raced through JayJ's mind in the space of a few seconds as they stared each other down without blinking. It is quite possible that Bobby's mind was perfectly blank.

She thought about the possible implications of what she wanted to do, and she thought about how stupid it was to think so far ahead. She thought about the age difference between them, and almost wanted to laugh. It was exciting, and a stupid thing to dwell on.

She thought about how incredibly idiotic this situation was, and it was when she thought about how much she really wanted him to kiss her again, that she felt calm.

And so, with this new and unusual sense of peace, JayJ put down her fist. She smiled, and she raised her hand tenderly to Bobby's cheek... and she pounced on him.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

JayJ would remember the night, though details became blurry with time. Pale, soft milk skin pressed against a hard, muscled exterior; gentle pink lips tracing a shadowed jawline in tender kisses. It was a yin and yang battle of polar opposites. JayJ found the quiet vulnerability, which she kept so carefully hidden, suddenly fighting its way to the surface, only to be pushed back by the silent strength that emanated from Bobby, and emboldened her.

She smiled playfully and bit at his lower lip, pulling herself back the tiniest of fractions, teasing cruelly and earning herself a growl of reproval and a liplock of punishing forceful passion; which, of course, had been her plan from the beginning.

Her hands roamed his back and chest, exploring and memorizing every contour. She breathed him in, and when he picked her up and moved them upstairs, she hid her nose in his neck and felt safe.

Her shirt hit the floor first, and she made damn sure his followed soon after. Bobby was no angel. An attentive, sensitive, simpering persona was too much to ask of him. And JayJ didn't want it. He was a man used to taking what he wanted, and fighting to keep it. She licked her lips, and hooked an arm around his neck. She was rewarded with another growl, this time of generous approval. She grinned and breathed a soft quietness as her finger traced a gentle path from his navel to his chest, neck, jaw, chin, mouth...

Her eyes followed the path of her exploring finger with a soft intensity, and she whispered as the pad of her thumb brushed his full lower lip.

"It's going to be hard to convince you that you don't have to fight for me, isn't it?"

And the grin became a sudden seriousness as the air between them shifted cold. JayJ shivered, and Bobby pressed his warmth against her, and it was momentarily hard to imagine the rock-hard independant toughness of a man who could kiss her neck so softly. Of a man who could touch her cheek so reverently. Of a man who could look her in the eye with a bared soul, and make her feel wanted. Needed. Protective, possessive, yet still protected and safe. Owned. Claimed. Staked.

"Kid, as long as any other man stands breathin', I guarantee that I'll have to fight for you."

His breath on her shoulder was warm and comforting. The whispered roughness in his voice was exciting. But the implication in his words and the dark tone of foreshadowing lent raised apprehension. And she closed her eyes, and held on twice as tight.

-

-


	14. Chapter 14

There are certain things which should never be discussed at the breakfast table.

One of these things, of course, would be one grown man enjoying himself a bit too much with one eighteen year old female in his adoptive mother's bed.

More specifically, his _dead_ adopted mother's bed.

And of course, never, under any circumstances, should the aforementioned incident be discussed at the aforementioned breakfast table by the aforementioned male's adopted brothers.

And yet, sadly, some things which were never meant to happen... undoubtedly do.

This sorry state of affairs will suffice to explain why, on what might otherwise be a perfectly normal day, all conversation and human-made sounds ceased abruptly the very second that one aforementioned male with apparently limited self-control made an appearance.

Bobby, with a ruffled, sexy, hair-do from hell look, glared an inexhaustable supply of well-deserved daggers at his not so well-meaning brothers.

However, ignoring this clearly stated warning, said brothers could not resist the inevitable taunting jests which rose to their lips.

"So, uh, Bobby, you findin' robbin' the cradle easier than buyin' dinner?"

"Yeah, what's the deal? Does she need a note to get out of gym?"

"Or is she using you to get into R rated movies?"

With a mock smile intended to show appreciation for their wit, Bobby proceeded to nonchalatly crack Jack's skull against the wall, and ever-so-stealthily pull Angel's chair out from under the marine, all accomplished with ease as he made his way to the refridgerator.

JayJ entered the room to find Angel picking himself up off the floor, and Jack absentmindedly massaging the back of his neck, and Bobby calmly guzzling milk from the carton. What made the scene even more bizarre would be the traces of amusement still evident on the faces of the two younger Mercers.

With one quizzical brow raised, she pulled a chair up at the table and helped herself to cold cereal.

In a particularly cruel move, the boys chose to wait until she had a spoonful of frosted flakes in her mouth before innocently inquiring;

"So, JayJ, is Bobby any good in the sack?"

Frosted flakes hit the ceiling.

After a few choking sputters, JayJ managed a croak. "Do you want to kill them, or shall I?"

Bobby shrugged. "It goes against my brotherly duties, but in the interests of humanity, I turn a blind eye."

Which he did quite literally. As he walked out of the room, all grins dissipated in the face of JayJ's wrath.

"Umm... Bobby?"

"HELP!!"


	15. Chapter 15

**a/n okay, I would just really really like to give a shout out to my most dedicated reviewer, VivienLiegh, who I just realized has been sticking with this story for more than a year. Stubborn, huh?**

**Thank you so much, Viv. this chapter is all yours. :P **

* * *

"Jerry's broke."

This casual comment from the sleekly groomed blonde in black jeans and a sea-blue top emerging from her basement haven served to end all early morning chatter in the Mercer household.

Bobby looked up from the wide array of deadly firearms spread out in front of him on the kitchen table.

"What?"

"Yeah, the city shut him down. All his loans are cut off..." JayJ paused in her bearer-of-bad-news role as she slipped into a softly tailored black denim jacket. "He's in pretty bad shape."

Angel and Jack shared a look, and Bobby stood, reaching for his own coat and slipping a revolver into his jeans.

"What the hell?"

"Why?"

"Well... I was just about to go find out." With a glance around, her bangs falling into her eyes, JayJ tossed a set of keys in Jack's direction. "Want to come?"

* * *

Having filled the boys in on their way to city hall, she left them to discuss their plan of action while standing around JayJ's silver mustang in the underground parking lot. Angel, after a long and somewhat heated discussion in fiery Spanish, had wisely decided that some one on one bonding time with his latina would be in order, and was absent.

JayJ made her way to the entrance alone, reaching the door just in time to meet Councilman Douglas on his way out. Damn.

Changing tactics, JayJ turned quietly and began to follow her target. Fishing a cell phone from her pocket, she dialed Bobby's number, cursing her luck as the councilman turned to look directly at her. She raised the phone to her ear, shaking her long blonde mane back and pretending to fumble with keys in her pocket.

"Hey, honey, I'm gonna be late..." Adopting a loud, airy, affectionate tone, JayJ turned, pretending to head for a sleek looking Corvette.

"Sorry doll, I didn't realize we had a lunch date." Bobby's voice on the line sounded amused.

The corners of her mouth twitched, but she let an exasperated breath of air hiss into the phone. "Shh, he's coming your way."

"Got him." As Douglas turned the corner, Bobby hung up, flipping his phone shut with a snap. And leaving one offended JayJ with a dial tone in her ear.

Rolling her eyes and planning sweet revenge, JayJ returned the phone to her pocket and resumed her original course.

When she came within sight of the boys, she let out an exclamation of disbelief. There was the councilman in his car, Jack lighting a cigarette, and Bobby calmly emptying the contents of a jerry can across the hood of the steel gray Beemer.

Quickening her step, JayJ almost ran towards the odd group. But before she could get quite withing earshot, she saw the councilman drive away, shaken but unmolested.

Breathing a sigh of relief, JayJ walked up behind the boys with the soft clicking of high-heeled doe-skin boots against concrete, and allowed her hand to connect with the back of Bobby's head.

He spun around.

"What the fuck?!"

"Well, what the hell were you thinking? That was a city Councilman! I know discretion may be too much to ask, but God! Have you never heard of negotiating, or is everything with you just a jump to violence??"

Amid a chorus of mixed expletives from Bobby's wide vocabulary, and righteous indignation on JayJ's part, Jack grinned and made his way back to the car. In some ways, they were a perfect match.

With a glance around, Bobby dropped his voice to a dangerous growl.

"Listen, kid, whatever you believe about discreet negotiating, I've seen a bit more of the world than you, and trust me, that ain't the way to handle these bastards."

Dropping her own tone of voice to a lilting lethal drawl, JayJ took a step forward.

"Listen, honey, whatever you think you've seen of the world, take that experience and try to comprehend this information..."

Pressing herself up against him, as if dangling bait to a tiger, JayJ raised her lips to his ear and whispered as if her words could be the secret to a long, fulfilling life as opposed to a painful, drawn out death.

"Hang up on me again, and you're going to be spending some long, _lonely_ nights regretting it."


	16. Chapter 16

**a/n okay... you're all gonna hate me when you finish this chapter... (sigh) I must prepare for flames... (gets out fireman suit and hose). ha, bring it! :P**

-

* * *

...

She sat staring at the piece of paper for a long time. The sad statement written in plain text, and its possible implications, caused an emotional pain so deep it translated into a physical ache, twisting and gnawing at her gut until she thought she'd throw up, right there on Ms Evie's coffee table in front of the four arguing brothers.

JayJ made a short dash for the bathroom across the hall, and her departure was not noticed amidst Bobby's loud accusations and Jerry's denial, and Angel's attempts at peacekeeping, and Jack... well, Jack's reaction was much like her own, a quiet nausea.

In fact, out of the four, JayJ felt a deeper kinship with Jack than the rest. His mild-manner was very like her own personality, the only real difference between them being that maddening way in which Bobby could shatter her control into a million pieces.

She didn't really believe that Jerry would have had his mother killed, but with such a prize Life insurance policy (and his girls the beneficiaries), all evidence seemed to be pointing in the wrong direction.

JayJ bent over the toilet again, wretched, and straightened up, wiping her mouth and absentmindedly looking out the window at the road in front of the house.

* * *

The doorbell rang, and, seeking any excuse the leave the room, Jack went to answer it. His absence, like JayJ's, went temporarily unnoticed.

He opened the door to a snowball in the face, and when he might ordinarily have let that slide, today was just the wrong bloody day.

As he took off in hot pursuit of the offending punk, he failed to notice the black mask and size of the attacker. He also failed to notice, until it was almost too late to stop, the gun being quietly pointed at this chest.

Jack heard the muffled sound of the shot at the same time that something hit his side with alarming force, spinning him uncontrollably to the ground. Hard. For a half-second he thought he'd been shot, but an unmistakable mass of shimmering gold waves entered his vision as JayJ picked herself off of him. Moving stiffly, she crouched low behind the cement guardrail for protection, and one-handedly fumbled with a handgun in the back of her jeans. In an odd moment of silent clarity, Jack recognized it as the same little revolver Bobby had given her only a few days before.

Sound came back into the world as JayJ stuck her head over the concrete and squeezed off a shot. She winced. Jack was suddenly conscious of the sound of many, many bullets flying overhead, ricocheting off the cement they were sheltered behind. JayJ turned her head towards him, her lips moving, but no sound coming out. Jack shook his head and listened again.

"Are you okay?!"

He reached up and touched the back of his head, blood coating his fingers as he drew them away. "Yeah..."

Keeping himself glued to the ground, he writhed his way up next to her. The bellow of a shotgun came from the house behind them, signalling that the other brothers had joined in the bizarre, unprovoked fight.

Risking a peek over their temporary fort wall, Jack took stock of the enemy. Several dark, hooded men were climbing out of a unmarked van, and moving stealthily toward the house. Even as he monitored their progress, JayJ squeezed off a round and one black figure bit the dust. Or snow, if you wanted to get technical...

He turned to congratulate her, and found his nose at her shoulder, staring into a congealing mass of blood-soaked clothing and crimson-stained gold.

As JayJ went up for another target, Jack yanked her back with a hard finality. Putting a hand on the un-injured shoulder, he twisted her around to face him, bracing her back against the cement. He swore softly when she fought him, and shook her roughly, guilt dictating action.

"_Stay Down_!" It was a snarl, not a suggestion. Bobby's voice in the background came to him punctuated by shotgun blasts.

"Are you alive, Fairy?!"

Jack looked back over his shoulder, yelling in the general direction of the house.

"_JayJ's hit!_"

All of Detroit heard the wrath of the oldest Mercer brother, and quaked.

Jack picked up the gun from JayJ's suspiciously lax hand, thumbing a fresh round into the chamber from her pocket. He glanced back up at her face as the gun sprang ready for action with a click in his hand, and her sudden paleness shocked him. Guilt hit him like a bottle smashed to a million glittering shards over his head, and anger poured liquid cold down his shoulders and back.

There was a blast of sound as the front door exploded outwards, and Bobby's head showed through the smoke. Angel covered him from the doorway, employing any and all Marine training that came in handy.

Her shoulder and chest burned like the fires of hell, and in angry defiance of the pain JayJ cracked her head back on her concrete pillow. A moan of regret followed this unwise impulse, as her head joined in with a chorus of sweet misery. For a moment she regretted looking out the window in the bathroom, seeing the van, hearing the doorbell, putting two and two together...

But just for a moment. Looking up at Jack kneeling over her, she knew if she had it to do over again, the result would be the same.

Bobby's knees hit bloodstained snow at Jack's side, and through the muttered curses, and gunshots, and the bellowed curses, JayJ's ears picked up the faint sound of police sirens.

It was quite possibly the first time she was happy to hear them.

"Are you okay, kid?"

Rough hands explored her wound, the deep hole drilled far closer to her heart than was adviseable. A rougher voice was calling her name, but it was slowly fading from familiarity.

"JayJ!"

She stared at Bobby's face, cocked her head in confusion, and wondered who it was that seemed so desperate for her to speak. She turned to look at Jack, and there was no glimmer of recognition. She coughed.

She saw distress in both men's eyes, and idly wondered why. She didn't understand the reason, but the hurt so apparent on their faces made her whimper.

She tried to tell them to stop it. No sound came.

A tear fell from Bobby's cheek, sparkling as it landed softly on her own. She raised a shaky finger to his chin in confusion. A small frown pulled at her pink painted mouth, and her eyebrows kit together in concern. What would make a grown man cry?

A sudden, terrifying, awful ache hit like a sledgehammer on her heart; and it choked the air from her lungs in a panic.

_What??_

She tried to whisper comfort...

_What do you want me to do?_

_--_

"Don't cry..."

--

Tires squealed, and the black van with its mysterious occupants fled.

JayJ coughed blood.

Police squad cars pulled up, sirens blaring.

JayJ didn't notice.

An ambulance came too late.

--

and JayJ didn't care.


	17. Chapter 17

Four hours had passed. An exhausting, frustrating, panic-inducing four hours, and the boys in the waiting room still had no news. Yes, Miss Sylvette was still in surgery. No, they could not see her. Yes, they would be called as soon as there was any new information; and could they please leave the nursing staff the hell alone?? Thank you.

Under fluorescent lights, and hospital decor derived from the depths of somebody's deeply troubled insanity, the Mercer brothers found no comfort and no way to alleviate the tension. Jerry paced up and down, stopping occasionally to pester the receptionist for news. Jack lay prone across six waiting room chairs, one arm over his eyes, apparently sleeping but silently wide awake. The bandage from his head dangled in his left hand. Sofi sat in Angel's lap, quietly crying on his shoulder.

Bobby sat alone in the corner, slouched back in his chair almost indifferently. A thoughtful expression graced his face, and his chin rested heavily in the palm of his right hand, his right elbow placed on the armrest of a sickly-green chair. His left hand appeared the only thing betraying his impatience, as his fingers drummed an incessent tattoo against puke-coloured vinyl.

Twenty more minutes passed with still no news. Jerry sat down.

A half an hour.

Forty minutes.

As the end of a fifth hour settled across their collective gloom, Bobby sighed. His head sunk into his hands, and his shoulders slumped. He ran his fingers through his hair with short frustration, exhaling a soft exclamation of silent, torturous misery. On the whole, he suddenly presented such a dejected figure to the world, that no one with a heart could ignore it.

His head jerked up when a reassuring hand crossed his back, and Sofi's fingers traced a soothing rhythm along his spine. It was a small gesture, but it was the first physical sign of the brother/sister affection that ran deep between the two, cleverly hidden by their incessant fighting.

"It'll be okay."

Sofi's voice cracked, and her eyes were red-rimmed from recent tears. Fighting the urge to join her, versus the humiliation of breaking down front of his brothers, he nodded and didn't trust himself to speak. Instead, his hand covered her knee and squeezed gentle appreciation.

Taking the small movement as an invitation, Sofi settled herself into his lap. Without having to ask what was needed, she gave him a gentle, female body to hold; A quiet, feminine soul to protect... a wealth of soft, shiny hair to put his nose in; and even if it was the wrong colour, and even if she fell short as a replacement, he could close his eyes and imagine.

* * *

But Sofi was wrong. It wasn't okay. At two o'clock in the morning on Valentine's Day, a doctor with a grim face informed them of JayJ's death. The last glimpse the Mercers had of their cheeky little blonde bombshell, was through glass doors as a hospital gurney wheeled her broken form to the waiting hearse-like black van.

Her face was peaceful.

* * *

Back at the house, everything was empty. It felt like it had after their Mom's funeral, but six million times worse.

Black shadows screamed silent agony.

Pictures on the wall were depressing.

Windows, cracked and riddled with bullet holes, stared back a blank, miserable cry that hit one's soul like cold water.

Glass littered the kitchen floor, and glittered an eerie beauty in pale moonlight.

She couldn't be gone.

Everyone was silent, and nobody looked Bobby in the eye.

He didn't even notice. From the hospital waiting room until they entered the house, Sofi had clung to him. And until they walked into the living room, Bobby had kept one arm around her.

But when they came within sight of the open basement door, with one lonely, limp pink t-shirt gracing the doorknob, he dropped the latina's hand as though her skin burned.

Too understanding to be hurt by his actions, Sofi stepped back into Angel's waiting embrace, letting her own pain melt and be whispered away against his quiet, rock-hard solidity.

There could be no such comfort for the man standing at the top of the stairs. With an almost telepathic understanding, his brothers left him in peace, and Bobby didn't notice their absence.

In almost twenty-odd long years of calling this house home, he had never been afraid to enter a room. But now he found himself shrinking from basement as if it held all the demons of the underworld. The long, creaking staircase was enveloped in darkness, shrouded in such an ethereal sense of gloom, that for a moment he was almost sure it led straight to the fires of hell.

And if it did not literally lead into the devil's domain, he knew that if he entered JayJ's lair, he would be willingly plunging himself into another kind of hell.

But he couldn't help it.

He needed to be near her.

as he made his way down the stairs, he considered how completely ridiculous it was, that he could miss someone so much. Someone that he had known for such a brief length of time.

He entered her room, and sat on her bed, allowing his hand to run across the red satin coverlet absent-mindedly.

She wasn't gone.

She permeated every wall and window, her presence emanating from smiling pictures on the mahogany desk and soft paintings on the walls.

With a sudden violence that shocked even himself, Bobby stood, his fists clenching and unclenching, positively _aching_ for something to smash. He was inexplicably furious; at the doctors for not saving her. At Jack for being such a.. a _fairy..._ but most of all, at JayJ, for leaving.

But he couldn't allow himself to do what he wanted, (storm around breaking every piece of furniture in sight), but not in _her_ room. He winced at the thought, visualizing the blonde outrage he would have faced had she come in to find her room devastated by the wrath of Bobby Mercer.

_Well, kid, even when you're dead you're telling me what to do._

He smiled. a soft curve at the corners of his mouth.

_How do you fight that?_

The muscles in his jaw loosened, and he blew out a long, aggravated breath.

The shirt that had hung on the doorknob fell from his hand to the floor, and an odd clunking sound made him reach for it again.

A small .22 bullet rolled up to his shoe, and stopped.

With a sudden reverence, Bobby picked it up. It was iconic... symbolic... perfect.

JayJ was telling him to fight.

It was Justice.


	18. Chapter 18

**a/n. Okay, I know I've been unbelieveably cruel, but bear with me.**

The room was dark and cold, the cement walls suggesting a basement. When Victor Sweet entered, he had to duck to get under the doorframe.

Shivering in disgust at his surroundings, he turned to look at the body laid out for his inspection. Anger bubbled. He turned viciously on the quiet dark figure next to him, demanding answers.

"_Who the fuck is that_??"

"Well, I-"

"That is _NOT_ a MERCER!"

"I know, boss, but-"

"_But_ NOTHING. I am sick to _death_ of your fucking screw-ups. When I ask you for one of those damn brothers, I _do not_ mean _GO OUT AND SHOOT THE FIRST LITTLE WHORE YOU COME ACROSS_!"

Sweet's anger reverberated with an echo in the confined area, and his little go-to boy winced.

"They tried, boss, but it was a mistake. They went to the house, like you said-"

"How **_fucking incompetent_ can you _possibly_ _be_**?!" His voice thundered through the underground chamber, reverberating promises of dark repercussions.

In an effort at self-preservation, the smaller man spoke up.

"But we can still use her, boss! She lives with them. We had to wait six hours at the damn hospital to get her; they wouldn't leave!"

Sweet went silent, contemplating, and the smaller man puffed up with pride.

"We bribed some nurse to put on a doctor's uniform and tell them she was dead, and we pushed her out to the van right under their fucking noses."

"Don't be so cocky, Brian. You couldn't have pulled it off without me."

Stepping from the shadows as he spoke, Fowler moved close to JayJ, and stroked her soft, cold cheek.

"The hospital released her into police custody. _My_ custody."

Sweet watched him, faintly repulsed.

"Why?" He demanded.

Almost reluctantly, Fowler straightened, and looked Sweet in the eye.

"This 'little whore', as you so eloquently put it, is Robert Mercer's personal sex toy. You don't think he'll come out to play once he hears you've got her?"

"Not if he thinks she's dead."

Fowler grinned. He turned back to the blonde and pressed a kiss to her icy forehead.

"That's why she's not."


	19. Chapter 19

When JayJ attempted to open her eyes, she became immediately aware only of a red haze which blocked her vision, hearing, and every other sense with a terrifying silence. She smelled blood, felt pain, and tasted torture. It filled the inside of her mouth like cotton balls, and she choked on it.

Blinking, JayJ shivered, feeling cold lance through her pale skin like ten thousand tiny knives. She turned her head to look around the room, still seeing in shades of scarlet. She saw concrete and closed spaces, and when she closed her eyes, she heard the soft drip of water. _Where the hell?_The stillness made her shiver again, and she shifted her hand slightly, feeling blindly underneath the thin hospital sheet. She found nothing but her own skin and the flimsy material of a hospital gown. _What in the fucking depths of Hades..._

With pain-staking slowness, JayJ tried to sit up. She had barely lifted herself an inch before lightning bolts of white-hot agony lanced through her shoulder. The unexpected pain made her cry out, and she fell back hard, the impact jarring a whole new adventure in discomfort through every cell. JayJ winced, her eyes tight shut as she hissed a few unladylike words, one hand coming up to the crusted blood on her shoulder. A low, amused voice seemed to come to her from far away.

"I wouldn't do that again."

Going suddenly still, JayJ cracked one eye open in the light. She saw the outline of a man in the corner, slumped into an uncomfortable chair. A soft metallic clicking sounded remarkably loud in her ears as he rolled the chamber of a small, pug-nosed silver revolver. JayJ opened her mouth, fumbled with a dry tongue, and tried to articulate words.

"Where the hell am I, Fowler?" She set her jaw and shifted onto her good shoulder, raising her head as high as she could. A few strands of molten honey-gold fell into her eyes, and Fowler was surprised that they didn't shrivel as they came into contact with the lasers shooting from her glare. He laughed and stood, his face coming out of the shadow to reveal a grotesque grin twisting his lips.

"You're enjoying the warm hospitality of the generous and loquacious Victor Sweet, my love. Why? Isn't the décor quite to your preference?"

JayJ's eyes flashed. "No, actually. The 'mouldy basement' look went out with your hairstyle, in the 80's."

Fowler laughed again, the sound harsh and grating on JayJ's frayed nerves as he approached the hospital gurney.

"You know, that's what I've always admired about you, '_Jaybird.'..._." He pulled the revolver up and traced it lovingly along the steel framework of JayJ's hospital gurney resting place, the soft sound of metal on metal leaving a twisted knot in her gut. Fowler watched her eyes follow the gun. And he grinned again.

"Beautiful, isn't it? A gift from Victor. A reward for my generous services..." Fowler held the silver gun up to the light and ran a hand over it lovingly. "It's only killed one person. That lousy little shit, Green. Died like a bitch, calling for back-up. I was hoping the first bullet would be yours, honey, but I suppose you'll settle for second place?"

Struggling to remain in a semi-upright position, JayJ tossed her hair. "You should know, honey. I never settle."

"Really? So, Robert Mercer is the epitome of male sophistication for you, then, is he, darling?" A loud laugh echoed through the cement chamber, and JayJ shivered. "Really, I would have thought you had better taste."

JayJ flinched as he leaned closer to her, the foulness of his garlicky breath proving that he had been appropriately named. "Fucking with stray hood rats. I do hope you've been vaccinated, as much for my sake as your own."

Pain stabbed lightning through her wounded shoulder as he gripped it, pulling her up and fastening his mouth over hers with a force that was totally unnecessary. JayJ felt weak as a kitten. But even a kitten has claws. She struck out as he released her, and three thin red lines formed slowly along his cheek.

"Keep your paws off. You're right, I haven't been vaccinated, and I'm sure Bobby wouldn't appreciate catching some unnameable ailment from a _stray hood rat_." She snarled out the words and spit them at him, "Such as yourself. As a matter of fact, at the risk of sounding cliché, Robert Mercer is six times the man you or your boyfriend will ever be."

Fowler wiped the small trickle of blood from his chin with the back of his hand, and smiled. He reached out and caught and handful of the shining mass of bloodstained golden curls, and yanked her head back hard. "I don't think you fully grasp the seriousness of this situation, _honey. _Or would you like me to tell your captor exactly who murdered his brother?"

JayJ laughed at this, but the effect of it was a little ruined by the particular strangling position of her throat. Still, this reaction to his threat was not exactly what he had expected. He shook her. "_What_?_"_

"You're such an idiot, Fowler. Arthur Sweet, right? Sure, I pulled the trigger, but I guess you didn't bother to ask your boss who sent the order."

Fowler dropped her, and JayJ slumped back, fatigue and pain pounding through her, but a smile still on her pale, full lips.

"Victor?" Fowler strode away, and turned back, thoughtful. JayJ wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Yeah. He sent the order through some fat old banker named Rance Whitfield. It seemed okay on the surface, because Whitfield had a grudge against Arthur. Seems the deceased had blackmailed about two hundred grand from him over the years. So all old Vickie had to do was offer to pay half of it back and give Whitfield my number. I'm not exactly listed, am I? Although I'm sure 'Hit men' would be a great section in the yellow pages."

It was Fowler's turn to laugh, and the grating sound of metal on cement echoed in JayJ's ears as he dragged a chair over to her gurney and sat on it backwards, the silver revolver dangling casually from one hand. "Well, babe, it seems that we're workin' for the same boss."

"Yeah, we're regular colleagues. And, do you suppose he's gonna be overly thrilled when he realizes you've got his best hired gun locked up in the basement with a hole in her shoulder?"

The rancid grin returned in full foul force. "Oh, but he's not going to find out, darlin'. And I doubt you'll tell him, because you see, he's the one who had your little Ms Evie put six feet under."

JayJ's eyebrows rose in surprise, disappearing behind golden bangs.

"What?"

Aside from what Fowler might have imagined, shock and betrayal were not what JayJ was feeling at the moment. She had known all along that Victor was a creep. Any man that would murder his brother for money wasn't exactly a model citizen. And, as a matter of fact, Sweet didn't even know that she knew that he had paid for Arthur's death. He most certainly wouldn't know her if he saw her. She had exaggerated their working relationship a bit in the hopes of cowing Fowler. But now that plan was gone.

"Why the hell would Victor Sweet want to kill Evelyn Mercer?"


	20. Chapter 20

The next morning, breakfast at the Mercer household was a sombre affair. Nobody actually ate. Jack sat solemnly at the table pushing cereal in circles with his spoon. Angel leaned against the door frame, his muscular arms folded across his chest. Jerry stood in the corner, his head hanging. Sofie sat by Jack, and cried quietly. No words were spoken, but none were needed. Overall there was a sense of apprehension, as if something was lacking, something was expected.

The absolute silence was broken with the heavy sound of hard footfalls, and the four pairs of eyes looked up at Bobby as he entered. There were no good mornings, no pleasantries. Bobby looked pale, exhausted, grim, and determined. His mouth set in a firm line as he took one of two bleak, black handguns from his belt, and proceeded to feed it a fresh clip of ammunition from the top cupboard. His voice, when he spoke, was rough and low; and he gave his instructions in a curt, clipped manner.

"Angel, I want you to get Green on the phone. Keep it brief, but make sure you find out everything he knows about last night."

Angel complied, turning to leave the room. Bobby shifted his red-rimmed gaze to the table.

"Jack, I want you to stay here, load up a shotgun, and keep the damned door shut. Sofie…," His tone softened a bit, and he placed a hand on her shaking shoulder. "Take care of the fairy for me." She nodded her compliance, clearly not in the right state to form coherent sentences.

"Bobby, wait." As Bobby turned to follow Angel out of the room, Jerry, who had up to this point been successfully ignored, stepped forward and laid a hand on his brother's arm. Bobby stopped, looked at Jerry, and then down at the restraining hand. The coldness in his eyes was enough to make Jerry remove the offending appendage with prudent swiftness, but he asked his question anyway.

"What do you think you're going to do?"

"I'm past the thinking stage, Jer." His voice was flat, gravely, hard. "I'm gonna kill somebody, and try to put some end to this mess. A mess which I think you helped make, if I might add. Now, are you gonna let me leave this room, or do I have to start the killin' with you?"

There was a soft gasp from the bleary-eyed Latina, and Jack moved to get up, but Jerry held up a hand to stop him, his eyes locked with Bobby's cold, dead stare.

"Bobby, you're right, man, I did help make this mess. Sweet tried to blackmail me, and I refused. He got Douglas in his pocket and threatened to shut me down. Now, I ain't tryin' to make excuses, I just want you to hear the truth." Jerry spoke evenly, but his hands trembled. "That's when Ma took out that life insurance policy for the girls. I didn't know she knew, and when I found out, I asked her not to. But it was too late. Sweet found out about it and had her killed. He wants the insurance money, and after what happened yesterday, man…"

Jerry's voice broke, and he swallowed once. "I've got to think of my girls, Bobby. I want to see Sweet dead as bad as you do, but I just can't risk it."

Silence followed this little revelation, and Angel broke it unknowingly as he re-entered the room. "Bobby…"

"Yeah?"

"Green's dead."

There was further silence.

"How?"

"Shot in the back last night in an alley." Angel looked tired now, as if all the strain of the last few weeks had finally caught up to him at once. "And there's more."

"What is it?"

Bobby's expression didn't change, he showed no remorse for a dead friend; but inside he was cursing. His plan had been to get information from Green, to find out what the cops knew about the black van and hooded dead guys that had so recently decorated their front lawn. Now what the hell was he gonna do?

"Before Green died he called the hospital for JayJ's death certificate."

Bobby visibly flinched at the name. But he recovered quickly, his jaw set in a rigid line, and his fist clenched at his side.

"And?" He kept his tone level, but the tightness in his throat made the word clipped. What did _her_ death certificate have to do with anything?

"She doesn't have one."

Excitement entered the atmosphere as everyone's eyes followed Bobby. He turned to face Angel, not entirely convinced that he'd heard what he thought he'd heard. "What?"

"The hospital says that she was released in stable condition to the custody of Detective Fowler from the Detroit PD."

He tried to keep the hope out of his voice, but it cracked in betrayal. He tried to keep his heart at a steady rhythm, but his pulse quickened with excitement.

"Are you sure?"

The Marine nodded. Jack came to his feet swiftly, standing tall by his stockier brothers. "What are we gonna do?"

With a thoughtful slowness, Bobby turned back to his formerly banished brother, and looked Jerry in the eye.

"Well, first, Jerry's gonna call his little 'Sweet' heart, and tell him when and where to meet up with us for his money."

"What?" Horror flooded Sofi's face as she jumped to her feet, and a soft smile twisted Robert Mercer's mouth.

"I'm gonna have to go buy back that damn kid of mine."

He sounded positively thrilled at the prospect.


	21. Chapter 21

The ensuing phone call went something like this:

*Ring*

*Ring*

*Ring*

"Lyle! I thought I told you to put this damn thing on vibrate.."

With a slurred stream of muffled curses Victor Sweet sat up, groggily disentangling himself from the reaching arms of his semi-conscious bed mates. With a yawn and a growl, he reached out for the ringing, vibrating cellphone that was attempting to wiggle its way off of the beer-can and cigarette-butt infested bedside table. There was a murmured female protest from the bed. Victor snarled with all the gruffness of an early morning after hangover, and flipped open the small phone with a sharp snap.

"What?"

The voice that greeted his ringing ears was smooth and unruffled, almost downright pleasant.

"Mornin' Vickie. Sorry, did I wake you, you sadistic cocksucking shitbag?"

Excepting the friendly greetings, of course.

"Who the fuck is this?" The roughness of his voice was exacerbated by sleep deprivation, and Vick could feel one bitch of a headache coming on. He had no idea that it was about to get ten thousand times worse.

"It's Robert Mercer, you motherfucker. I think we need to talk." The pleasant tone was gone, and a hard, icy coldness saturated every word.

It washed over Victor Sweet like a bucket of ice water in the face, and he snapped up, trying to pull the memories from his subconscious brain. Wasn't there some pressing matter/plot/scheme involving Robert Mercer and a few hundred thousand dollars that he was currently involved in? and where the hell did that memory of a kid with lots of gold-blonde hair fit in? He grunted something unintelligible into the phone as it all came back. A snide, twisting grin came to his face with satisfaction.

"Ha ha, well, now Bobby. Fowler wasn't exaggerating, was he? The little bitch does get a rise out of you. And here_ I_ thought putting a bullet or two into that old lady of yours was the way to get your attention.. "

Victor laughed again, enjoying this. He had been kicked down and kept on the bottom rung of the Detroit criminal social ladder for too long. The feeling of his power over other men was his real drug, the fix that he lived for.

"I guess the older ones just don't do it for you, do they Mercer? Ha, not that I blame you, that little blonde is fine. It's really quite amazing, she was half-dead when I saw her, but she still had me goin'. I'll admit. I think it's something to do with her mouth, don't you? Such perfect lips... I really think I should keep her around, see what she can do when she's not unconscious."

On Bobby's end of the phone, there was complete silence. It wasn't because he didn't have a million different things he would like to yell at the top of his lungs, but more because his hands were trembling so closely, and his jaw was clenched so tight, and the gaping, aching wound that had until yesterday been his chest was now so raw that he did not trust himself entirely to be able to speak.

His brothers sat and stood around the bullet-ridden kitchen, all with anxious eyes and clenched fists. All simultaneously wished and yet were afraid to hear what was being said on the other end of that phone, what had started the furious hostility rolling off their older brother in concentrated waves that made it suddenly difficult to breathe in the charged atmosphere.

A single ragged breath broke the silence as Bobby worked to loosen his locked jaw. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, trying hard to focus on articulating words through a blind rage.

Yet, when he spoke, it was calm and cool. It took Victor Sweet off guard.

"Well, Vickie, unfortunately, you're never gonna get to know what you're missing. As fucked up as this world is, motherless bastards like you don't live very long. Now, I want her back, I want her alive, and untouched. You follow through on that, and I'm willing to give you some kind of pardon for what's gone on before this. And if you know what's good for you, you'll fuckin' play along."

"You think I'm really just gonna give her back to you?" Victor was incredulous, and amused. "Man, I'm gonna be real sorry if I have to kill you, Bobby. In this world a man needs some real entertainment."

"Oh, I never really thought you would just give her back to me, Vickie. But my Mama raised me with manners, and it seemed only polite to give you an opportunity to change your mind. But now I've gotta warn you; I don't believe in second chances. However, I'm a fair man. I'm willing to negotiate. I'll give you another offer; four hundred thousand dollars for the kid and a chance to kick your ass."

There was a moment of silence while Victor Sweet waited to see if he'd heard what he'd thought he'd heard... and then booming, loud laughter came over the phone. Angel, Jerry and Jack heard it, and all stiffened simultaneously, watching Bobby.

"You want to fight me, Bobby?"

"I don't think that you can techinically fight a pile of shit, Sweet, but yeah."

"For four hundred grand? You've got yourself a deal." More laughter. Bobby grinned grimly. Sweet was taking the bait, allowing Bobby to name the terms.

"And the girl?"

Victor chuckled gleefully, unable to resist rubbing a bit more salt in the wounds. "You'll have her too, as long as Fowler hasn't accidentally finished her off.. He's taken a liking to her, insisted on spending the night with her. Just to make sure she was alright, you understand."

A low growl rumbled through the phone, and Bobby bit his tongue to silence it. He tasted blood.

"Alright. We'll make the trade tonight, on the lake."

"The lake?"

It was Bobby's turn to laugh, but without amusement.

"Yeah. Angel likes ice fishin'."


	22. Chapter 22

**a/n Hey guys! you really are the best, you know that? :P I cannot believe that it's 2009!!! haha, anyways, I know that this update is horribly short, but I couldn't resist tacking something up for the first day of the new year. Hope you enjoy! lol, and even if you don't, let me know anyway! I love reading your reviews. ;)**

**--**

**--**

It seemed remarkably strange to think that just the night before last she had been sleeping safely in warm, masculine arms; had a safe home and a family, and a future that was, perhaps uncertain, but still a future...

As opposed to now, when she sat shivering in the cold, impersonal living room of her mortal enemy, staring down both barrels of a pretty certain death.

Well, no, her death wasn't certain. It was, of course, highly likely; especially given that she had no guns. knives, weapons of any particular kind, or any way to use them if she did. JayJ was firmly secured, tied to a most uncomfortable straight-backed kitchen chair with her hands behind her back and a dark red spot of blood oozing through the dark fabric of her borrowed sweats from the bullet hole in her shoulder.

She had stopped struggling a while ago. It had been only a very, very brief attempt anyway. She had pretty much agreed to this situation, a compromise from her earlier basement prison with the hospital gown and gurney.

With a bit off effort, JayJ lifted her head and took another look around, trying hard to hear any sounds from outside the room. Apparently Fowler felt it safe enough to leave her tied up alone. And no wonder. She felt like shit. She couldn't think. It hurt to think. Vaguely she was aware that she was probably a little delirious, so thinking most likely wouldn't yield much anyway. With a moan JayJ closed her eyes and let her head fall back. Her neck didn't feel strong enough to support its weight.

She opened her mouth to suck in a cleansing breath, and told herself to think clearly. And then she started to laugh. At first it was soft, melodic, gentle, but the more she thought the louder it became, maniacal, hysterical laughter that wracked her body in sharp sobs until her head hung forward on her heaving chest, her honey blonde, blood-stained, dirty hair hiding her face from the world..

This was ridiculous. Her feet weren't even tied up. She should have been able to stand right up and walk her ass out that front door, right back to her house. Right back to Ms Evie's. Right back to Bobby.

Bobby.... He thought she was dead. He must be going insane. Everybody on the whole damn block probably had their heads ripped off. The house must be half-demolished..

Oh, damn it all, he probably tore her room to fuckin' pieces, didn't he? Yeah, he would. Bobby, who was never so good with expressing his emotions, would have flown into a blind rage when he'd realized what he'd lost. His shiny new toy stolen..

This image started JayJ laughing again, only this time tears ran down her cheeks as well.

He'd want revenge. Even if Sweet had already told him that she was still alive, and offered a trade, Bobby wouldn't just let it go like that. Especially once he finally learned who had put that hit out on his mother. Oh, he'd do what he could to save her, if he even believed that she was still breathing, but after that he'd be going back in. Because he thought he had to. Because he thought he had to fight.

So, they were all dead. Because she wasn't strong enough to stand up and walk. Because she wasn't strong enough to save them. Because Bobby wasn't smart enough to save himself. Because his brothers would follow him into the pits of hell if it was for this kind of cause.

And so JayJ cried. She cried for herself, were she hadn't been able to cry for Ms Evelyn. She cried for that night she had lain in Evelyn's bed with her oldest son. She cried now knowing that there would be no more of those nights. She cried for that small, brief glimpse of a future she had momentarily longed for, knowing that the chances of it had been slim to begin with, but unable to keep from wishing anyway. She cried for the small, blue-eyed baby girl who would have had long, gorgeous hair exactly the same color as Bobby's. The beautiful, happy child whose small hope of existence was now extinguished...

She cried for the loss of something she had had so briefly, and for something she would never get. She cried because she should be crying for Angel and Jack and Jeremiah, for Sofie and Camille and the girls. Their pain would be greater than hers. But she cried selfishly, and that made it all the more miserable.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N Oh my fucking god. If I were you people I would have hunted me down and shot me already. Seriously. HOw do you put up with this level of neglect?? **

**0**

**-**

It would be dark soon. There was an hour, maybe two, left of the waning white daylight. Cold, harsh Detroit winter winds blew loose snow in dancing, intricate patterns across the surface of the frozen lake, and tugged at the coats and frozen faces of the four Mercer brothers who stood alone in the middle of the white desert.

"Bobby, are you sure this is gonna work?"

Angel shifted his weight from one foot to the other and clapped his hands together. Jack attempted to light his seventh cigarette. Jerry paced up and down. Bobby stood still, his eyes locked on some point to the west.

"It's not gonna work, Bobby." Jerry turned again to pace down his well-worn track in the snow. His nervous muttering was quiet and only half-intelligible. "My little girls, man. Angel, tell him it ain't gonna work."

"It's not going to work, Bobby." Angel's voice was a flat, quiet monotone.

"What the fuck d'you mean, man?"

Jack forgot his battle with touchy lighters and winter winds and turned back to face the small group.

"It'll work. Of course it'll work. Sweet's big-ass Volvo will drive up, he and his eighteen big-ass sons of bitches will get out of the car, take the money, shoot us, and then drive away and leave us for dead in this godforsaken hole." He took a long drag on his cigarette, savouring it like a man before a firing squad. He exhaled slowly and continued. "All neat and sewn up nice and pretty just like we planned. What the fuck could go wrong?"

"Why fairy, if I didn't know you better, I'd think you sounded downright thrilled about that happy ending."

For the first time Bobby unfroze his stiff position and turned to meet his brothers' eyes. He was smiling.

"It's judgement day, boys."

And there in the distance just over Bobby's shoulder, a shiny black SUV made its appearance. It moved swiftly and quietly across the ice, closing the distance fast. Jerry felt like he didn't have time to catch his breath.

* * *

The car pulled up neatly, allowing a spray of snow to kick up in the general direction of the Mercers as it skidded to a swift halt. Four doors opened. Just as Jack had predicted, five or six large black figures made their way out on to the ice, their position clearly protective of the man they surrounded.

Victor Sweet stepped down from the vehicle and shook his long white fur coat in the wind. He looked like a fluffy snowball. The sight would be comical if it wasn't lethal to find it so. There was the sound of car doors being shut as Sweet's entourage collectively moved forward. As the group got close enough to distinguish faces and fingers, Victor Sweet stepped forward with his arms outstretched.

"Bobby Mercer! Why as I live and breathe, you showed up. I didn't believe you had it in you. Even for so fine a piece of ass as that." Sweet's laugh shivered through Bobby and left him cold and hollow. "Damn, but she must be some new kinda fuck. Four hundred grand for some fine young pussy? I do hope you brought it all."

The black troupe stopped their advance a good five yards away from the intimidating line of Mercers. Sweet took another step farther and considered himself sufficiently courageous. It's possible that he felt the venom from Bobby's glare and his survival instincts, so long dormant, finally kicked in. Bobby forced his jaw to unclench and his lips to move, articulating words. It was somehow easier than he'd thought it would be, standing in front of this man. Easier perhaps because it signified the reality of what was soon to come.

"O, c'mon Vickie. You know me. Of course I brought the dough."

At Bobby's signal, Jack stepped forward with the large black duffel bag. He unzipped it carelessly and held it open, shaking it for Victor to see the wads of cash it contained. He threw it in the snow at Sweet's feet, and stepped back. Sweet moved forward, and Bobby held up a hand.

"Ah ah ah, Vickie. Let's not be too hasty. Where's the girl?"

Sweet grinned and his eyes didn't leave the beautiful sight in the black duffle bag.

"Oh, she's still around. You'll get her, you'll get her...."

With eager greediness Sweet bent down to the money-filled sack, his hands reaching excitedly. A bullet clipped the snow three inches from his hand.

Victor Sweet froze and looked up. The gun in Bobby's hand bucked again. It was a shiny little pug-nosed Magnum. The bullet from it sprayed snow at Sweet's face as he stood hunched over the money. Sweet back-pedaled now, stumbling back to the protection of his body guards. His face was bright purple.

"What the hell are y'all waitin' for?" He screamed, waiting for the large men to take some action against the danger to himself. "What the fuck do I pay you pussies for? _Kill these mother fuckers_!"

The tall black-clad figures didn't move. Bobby stepped forward and aimed his gun at the bead of sweat trickling directly between Victor Sweet's eyes.

In that moment, Victor suddenly realized every wrong thing he had ever done in his life. He realized and regretted and repented. If he came out of this alive, he would be the most saintly person on this side of the globe. Fuck Mother Teresa. The goddamn Pope would have nothin on Victor Sweet, if good deeds bought your way into heaven.

But it don't work like that.

"You promised me somethin, Vickie." The hammer on the revolver in Bobby's hand made a clicking sound as it pulled back. "Did you forget your part of the bargain?"

With vain hope and pleading eyes, Sweet looked around at his six big henchman. Even as he did, the one in the front; a big black man of less than average intelligence, whom Sweet suddenly remembered forcing to eat french fries off the floor; stepped forward and spoke.

"You sure it's all there and good, Angel?"

Victor Sweet went bug-eyed.

"Yeah, one hundred per cent, brother. Take yourself a look."

The big man shuffled forward, clearly in no hurry. Picking up the big black bag like it were a lady's clutch, he turned back and shuffled to his fellow pawns. Sweet felt a momentary pulse of hope as the giant approached him, but the man kept going, stopping only when he stood directly in front of the shortest of the Sweet mod squad. He held out the open duffle bag and let the shorter man view its contents. The short man grunted.

"All right Mercer. It's good. Have your shot."

A pure, vile, unadulterated rage filled Victor Sweet at the betrayal. The veins in his forehead looked fit to bust, and his fists clenched tight with shaking fury.

"You boys _**sold** **me** **out**?" _Each word was a hoarse whisper, and from his place on his back in the snow Victor Sweet still managed to look slightly terrifying. And more than a little isane. "After all I've done for you?!! After I brought you miserable, DUMB ASS band of fucking bastards and turned you into a GOD DAMN bunch of rich _assholes_, after I gave you work and provided for your _families_, _THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME??_"

He made as if to lunge forward, and immediately eight guns emerged as if from nowhere; some from the Mercer line, and some from the group of black thugs. All were pointing at exactly the same place; right where Victor Sweet's heart _would_ be, if he'd had one. Sweet froze.

"Stop!"

The loud voice didn't seem to startle anybody. No gun hands shook, nobody even turned around. But nobody fired. Not after the order. Bobby stepped forward, reaching out to point a few guns downward. He stepped to Angel and pushed the revolver into his brother's hands while he turned to face Sweet, already shucking off his big, heavy winter coat.

"Get the fuck up, Sweet." Striding forward toward his motionless opponent, Bobby struck out, his right boot catching Victor sharply in the knee. "Get the fuck up so I can kick your ass."


	24. Chapter 24

A/N **I figure its about time to write The End...**

Crouched in the snow behind the trash cans, Sofie shook. The gun in her hand was unsteady. Growing up in the neighborhood she had, guns were no strange thing to her. But she'd never killed a man, like she was planning to do now. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and prayed.

* * *

From his place in the snow, Victor Sweet looked up at Robert Mercer. This was not the way he'd imagined this going down. Fuck up after fuck up, thats what the whole damn Mercer thing had been. This shit wasnt fucking worth four hundred grand. Sweet got mad. Sweet got up.

"Alright." Victor pushed himself up from the ice, shucked his big winter coat, and took a fighting stance. "You fuckers have been nothin but a pain in my ass. You want your shot? Fine. Man to man."

"Sorry to hear we've been such a bother." Bobby started walking, circling, slowly, never taking his eyes off Sweet. His narrowed, cold eyes. "Now that just ain't very neighborly."

He moved in fast, throwing a punch to Victor's left side, and as Sweet moved to block he pulled it, feinted around and came down hard with an elbow to the gut. The air left Sweet in a huff and he grunted, but grabbed Bobby to him in a crushing bear hug and slammed them both to the ice on their right side. Two of Bobby's ribs cracked audibly. Sweet rolled, pinning Bobby beneath his larger bulk. He knew no matter what, he probably wasnt surviving the afternoon. His turncoat muscle couldnt let him live, he'd have them hunted down. So his one goal was to kill Bobby Mercer, to get some small measure of revenge. He fought viciously, and dirtily, he fought like a man with nothing left to lose.

* * *

Deep within her self-pitying, drugged depression, JayJ raised her head. She was not some pathetic useless scum who was gonna die pitiful and alone, wallowing in regret. Jayden Sylvette was a goddamn fighter. A Warrior. She'd survived too much already to go belly up now.

_So get your damn ass UP. _ She mentally rallied herself, planting her feet firmly against the floor. _NOW, you sniveling baby. Get UP, Jayden. You. Are. NOT. Dying. Today._

Her wrists were tied to the chair in the back, so she opened her eyes to take stock of her situation. In the middle of the living room, ugly green carpet, cigarette butts on the coffeetable, dvds and newspapers scattered everywhere..

_Something sharp, something sharp smartie pants, come on... wait.._

A lighter! There, by the half empty pack of marlboros on the coffeetable. Yes! Wasnt sharp, but fuck, it it worked..

* * *

Standing up shakily and bent over at an awkward angle to accomodate the chair, JayJ took a few shaky steps. She stumbled a lot, but managed not to fall. Setting the chair back down so she was sitting with her back to the coffeetable, she managed to grab the shiny gold Zippo sitting just on the ugly brown coffeetable's edge. Her wounded shoulder protested awfully at this punishment, but she managed to flick the lid back, and press her thumb to the flint. Just then noises came from the vague direction of the hall, shuffled footsteps. JayJ scrambled to get her chair back into its original place, sitting down just as Fowler entered the room.

* * *

Pinned underneath the great solid weight of Victor Sweet, Bobby tried franticly to move his arms and legs, or find some leverage. There was nothing, but the Michigan Mauler knew his way around a fight scene. He threw his head back with all his strength and heard the satisfying crunch of Sweet's nose. Moaning and blinded by blood, Sweet rolled off. Bobby scrambled away and got to his feet, keeping his left arm pinned to his side by his injured ribs.

Bellowing like a wounded bull, Victor charged half-blind at Bobby. He'd abandoned sanity and attacked senslessly, throwing wild punches and vicious kicks. Moving slower with his wounded side, several of the wild swings caught Bobby. A bright cut appeared over his right eye, and he took a solid punch to the solar plexus.

* * *

Standing by Fowler's back door with her back pressed to the siding of the house and her gun held firmly with both hands, Sofie Craned her head to get a better look inside Fowler's living room- a.k.a. JayJ Hostage Central.

JayJ's head cracked back with the resounding slap of Fowler's backhand. Stars passed in her eyes, and she tasted blood on her lip.

"Trying to fucking struggle, are we? Trying to get loose?" Fowler laughed, his bad breath assaulting JayJ's face. His teeth were yellow, stained, and his eyes bloodshot. He looked high. He grinned and slurred his words. "Keep fuckin trying, bitch. You'll only wear yourself out for me, for later."

Pulling her head up, JayJ looked Fowler square in the eye.

"Go to Hell."

With an enormous effort, she pulled her right foot back and delivered a vicious kick to Fowler's groin.

The crash of the door breaking in under Sofie's shoulder came just as Fowler's gun went off. Voices screamed, and two more shots sounded.

And then there was only silence.


	25. Chapter 25

His heart pounding in his ears, Bobby took a step back. His breath was coming in wheezing gasps, each one sending a knife of pain through the side with the broken ribs. His vision was beginning to blur at the edges, and one eye starting to swell shut even now. But through that battered gaze, Victor Sweet was in no better shape.

Victor's face was a mass of blood, and his nose was shifted a good inch to the right. He was still moving powerfully, but painfully, and slowly underneath the lumbering bulk of his winter clothes and bigger size.

Bobby, lighter and faster, darted in twice, landing solid blows to the kidneys and knees. Sweet went down hard to the ice, gasping. Bobby moved in.

"You done old man?"

He reached out a toe to nudge Sweet's shoulder. Sweet's large hand snaked out and clasped Bobby's ankle, pulling him down and cracking Bobby's head to the ice with a sickening thud. Like a wounded bear in his heavy fur coat Sweet roared up above Bobby, his other hand pulling something from an inside pocket of the massive coat. He raised it high above their heads, his face a horrific mask of blood and bared teeth and white eyes. The knife glinted in the sun as it swung down in its deadly arc towards Bobby's dazed eyes.

There was a scream that pierced the air a split second before a roaring gunshot, and Victor Sweet's body jolted backwards like a puppet on strings. The knife clattered to the ice inches from Sweet's dead fingers, and a spreading crimson pool stained the winter glass beneath them.

Four yards away, Jayj clambered to open the door of Sofie's vehicle and crawl out onto the ice. The emptied shotgun fell loudly from her shaking grip as she released the handle on the door and scrambled out over the frozen snow. She reached Bobby's body and shook his shoulders.

The Mercer brothers and the turncoat goons stared on with slack jaws.

"Bobby, Bobby! ROBERT Mercer!" Her knuckles were white against his coat. "You answer me RIGHT this second I swear to God!"

"Well good hell." His eyes opened a crack, and his voice came out a bit dazed in a slow drawl. "Don't you know kid, you got this damsel in distress thing motherfucking backwards."

And Jayj smiled, and the tears that ran down her cheeks were ones of relief, washing away the tracks of the anger and despair that came before. She lay her forehead wearily on Bobby's, and closed her eyes.

"Not my fault, tough guy," She whispered happily. "You can owe me one."

And they kissed.

~the end

Of the beginning, anyway. ;)


	26. Chapter 26

Book 2 ~ Pink Nail Polish & a .44 Slug

* * *

If there was one thing JayJ couldn't stand, it was a screaming brat. She flicked another glance over at the booth where the child sat, kicking in his high chair and throwing bits of toast and egg all over the floor. She rolled her eyes at the mother of the child, who was studiously ignoring the tantrum and eating her own breakfast. People who couldn't be bothered to discipline their child, had really ought to keep the little rugrats home. The waitresses, who would have the privelege of cleaning up after the little monster, obviously agreed with JayJ. She observed two of them quietly in the back corner, casting evil looks at the oblivious mother while they whispered. One of them felt JayJ's eyes on her with that sixth sense that waitresses develop, and made eye contact. Quickly paste-ing on a professional smile, she brushed back her chocolate brown hair and hurried over with a fresh pot of coffee.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" She asked, brisk and polite as she refilled JayJ's cup. JayJ looked up with bright blue eyes from under the hood of her purple plaid hoodie and smiled in thanks, but shook her head no, and the waitress bustled off to find other work. JayJ added cream and sugar to her drink, stirring slowly and then cupping it between her two hands. She slid another look around Lil Donna's Homestyle Cafe, taking in more information than the average person would in a casual glance. There were eight patrons in the restaurant, two waitresses and the kitchen staff. The person she was waiting for had yet to show.

JayJ sighed, and slouched back in her corner booth. She crossed her ankles, setting one black-and-white sneaker over the other, and dug around in her jeans for her phone. As JayJ got older, she found herself dressing younger. Especially when she went out on business. After all. Who expects the cute blonde kid with pink nails and a purple hoodie to be the hired assassin that's going to pull a gun and paint the wall behind you with your brain matter? Exactly. With age, comes wisdom. Although 21 was still plenty young enough to play the part. To look at her, you'd never know that JayJ had had three years' experience on the job. That she'd pulled the trigger that had killed the most powerful gangster in Detroit. That she had a huge scar on her left shoulder, and that when it rained the phantom pain reminded her of the bullet she'd taken to save her foster brother, and at night she still had nightmares of the cop who'd kidnapped her from the hospital shortly after.

You also wouldn't know from looking at her, that she'd been in a three-year commited relationship with Robert Mercer, the Michigan Mauler, a man some fifteen years her senior. Although, JayJ reflected dryly as she checked her phone, she did wonder sometimes if a better commitment on her part might not have been made to the psych ward at Detroit General. God, she loved him. But he drove her absolutely crazy, too.

It had taken weeks to teach Bobby the subtle art of texting, and train him to use it. Even still, his patience with it was thin and short lived, and he only did it when she refused to answer his calls, like now.

_Come home._ The message on her phone said. And even as she read it another popped up.

_NOW. _ It demanded, and JayJ knew from his special effort to use the capitalization that her violent-tempered boyfriend was at the very end of his very short fuse. She sighed and dithered over the screen, pondering what response to write. As a general rule, Bobby treated her wonderfully. When a guy risks his life to save your hide, it puts a lot of points in the good column. He was rough and uncouth, and he did have a way of pushing all her buttons at once, and she pushed his right back. However, their murdered foster mother, Eve Mercer, had taught all of her boys how to treat a lady, and for the most part Bobby was respectful of her independance. Occasionally, he would even sweep her off guard with moments of amazing gentility and tenderness.

This, was not one of those moments. JayJ pursed her lips in frustration, and tapped her baby pink nail on the table. She couldn't really blame him of course. Bobby wanted her out of the game, away from the danger and the killing. And after that incident three years ago, when he'd thought she was dead, well, JayJ truly understood his reluctance to let her go back to work. But two and a half years was too long. She was healed, healthy, and for the last six months had been working her way back into the network; sneaking off for odd jobs when she could, slowly rebuilding her reputation.

Bobby didnt, couldn't, understand that she needed it; the adrenaline, the danger, the power. He couldn't see that it was a part of her, too. That lust for thrill and excitement. JayJ also only accepted contracts on the bad guys. After a truly fucked up childhood, it gave her a sense of purpose and strength to be able to balance out the scales of good and evil, at least a little. She wasn't ready to give that up.

And that's why, this pale April morning, she sat dithering over her phone in a back corner booth at a family-friendly diner, waiting for contact with a client; namely, some dude who wanted some other dude dead. Quickly, quietly, expensively, and professionally. And JayJ was all of the above. She heard the wailing child's sobs begin to turn into a loud hiccuping.

Unable to formulate a witty and appeasing response to Bobby's texts, JayJ turned off her phone and moved to slide it back in her skinny-jean pocket; a task easier thought than accomplished. She lifted her butt off the seat a little to improve the wiggle room, and stopped when a large shadow fell over the table.

Feeling a bit sheepish being caught mid-squirm, JayJ took a moment to cool the blush from her cheeks before looking up; only to feel all the blood drain from her face as she stared into the warm brown eyes of a ghost.

A handsome, charming ghost with a heart-stopping smile. But a ghost nontheless. A phantom from her past, a resurrection of distant memories and old fears.

The boy she thought she'd killed.

* * *

Six Years Ago

_Running, running. Footsteps pounding, heart hammering. Run. Run. Escape. Jayden ran flat out across the empty field, her white nightgown catching and ripping on dogburrs and branches as she tore through the meadow like a frantic ghost. Her bare feet found sharp rocks and rough sticks on the uneven ground, but she didn't pause at all. Her bruises and muscles complained, but were banished by her fear. Directly behind her, other footsteps sounded. Heavier, louder, booted footsteps. Boy's footsteps. Jordan. Jordan, her saviour. She owed him her life. She should thank him. She _would_ thank him, of course, over and over. Forever. But first, first to escape! RUN!_

_Further behind them both echoed even louder, even heavier footsteps, hounding, pounding in hot pursuit. Men with flashlights. Men with guns. Men with dogs. Jayden would not risk a look behind, but the sound of the shouts and the barks, the beams of the lights through the trees filled her with terror, and spurred her on faster. She was a length ahead of Jordan now, as they cleared the meadow and reached the trees. Just a little farther, a little farther. Run. Escape._

_She burst through the trees with a wave of relief as she glimpsed the wall. There. Freedom is there, is close. Within sight, within reach.. Just a little farther now. Run._

* * *

And Now

"Hello, Jayden." The ghost said, with a half of a smile on his face and a sparkle in his honey brown eyes. "May I sit down?"

He motioned to the seat opposite her in the booth, and the movement and the sound of his smooth, familiar voice jolted JayJ back into her senses. She nodded quickly and fidgeted in her seat, her eyes raking suspiciously around the diner while he sat down across from her. Nobody else had entered with him, and if the other patrons had noticed the miraculous and sudden ressurection of a dead man during their Sunday brunch, they certainly weren't letting on.

The man cleared his throat to get her attention, and JayJ reluctantly dragged her eyes back to his face. 'Man' was a loose term for him, although he was noticeably older than when she had last seen him... and remarkably more alive...

He was her age, and looked it. A markedly handsome boy with short bronze hair and Caramilk eyes, obviously just out of his teens. But he carried himself with the quiet, confident air of maturity. Most people on the recieving end tended to squirm under JayJ's scrutiny, but he simply raised an eyebrow, and the charming half-smile returned to his face.

"I guess this is quite a surprise," he said, his tone light. JayJ's expression told him how far short that statement fell, and he became more serious. "I'm sorry if I startled you."

"If you came here to kill me, Jordan, you picked the wrong meeting place."

Her words came out quick and clipped, as a cold observation. Punctuated by the soft click of the hammer on her Magnum revolver, currently aimed at his family jewels underneath the cover of the table. She watched as his face crinkled in confusion at her statement, then paled in fear as he recognized the threat. She leaned forward the slightest bit, her eyes hardening as she continued.

"I thought I killed you, and I left you for dead. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted revenge, Jordan. But I've worked hard and carved a life out for myself here, I've got people who care whether or not I come home tonight, and I won't let that go without a fight."

The color began to come back to Jordan's cheeks, but he moved slowly, placing his hands palms-down on the table between them.

"Obviously I'm still alive, Jaybird." He met her gaze steadily and held it, and spoke softly and calmly. "I know you left me for dead. But I never blamed you. We were both young kids, and it was an accident. You had bigger concerns. Now." He leaned in just marginally closer. "I came here to offer _you_ revenge."

JayJ faltered for just a moment, but she blinked and he knew he had her. He leaned in even more, and dropped his voice an octave lower.

"I want you to help me kill your husband."

* * *

It was full-on dark when JayJ pulled up outside the old Mercer house. After the disconcerting meeting with Jordan that morning, she'd found reasons to put off coming home all day. For a moment she sat and looked at it, the house, freshly painted and repaired, with new windows and siding after the gunfight three years ago that had left the poor thing riddled with buckshot and bullet holes. Inside, one lone light was on in the living room. Sofie was probably upstairs, asleep. Angel had been called back to base, and Jack was on tour with his band.

It honestly wasn't the fear of facing Bobby's temper that had kept her away all day. Sure, he was most likely lurking just inside the door, waiting to pounce; but that was nothing new. The two of them spent half their time at each other's throats, and the other half ripping each other's clothes off. JayJ had always kind of figured that, eventually, they'd settle down into a quieter pattern. But she freely admitted to enjoying the fire and passion of their fight-and-make-up cycle.

Now, however, she wasn't in the mood. The life that she had built for herself in Michigan, the life with Sofie and the Mercers and Bobby, had no room for her past. Jordan, by showing up the way he did, had thrown her right back into the mindset of that fifteen year old girl, terrified and filled with the overwhelming urge to run.

And that simply would not do. With a deep breath to steel her resolve, JayJ walked around to the trunk of her prized '02 Mustang convertible and hefted out two paper bags of groceries. She used her chin and elbow to shut the red lid of the trunk, and began to navigate the overgrown lawn to the path that led to the front door.

She saw the faint glow of a reading lamp emanating from the living room as she kicked off her shoes in the entry way. She lifted the grocery bags high and tried hard not to notice Bobby's form in the armchair by the lamp, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his chin on his clasped hands, his eyes glittering darkly up at her from underneath bangs of tousled black hair. Without a word, JayJ scuttled past the living room into the kitchen and set the bags on the counter, cursing herself for a slimy coward. Bobby's soft footsteps followed her into the kitchen, and her shoulders slumped with a feeling of dread.

"Hey," he said, softly. "What's wrong?"

The words and tone were so opposite from what she'd been expecting, that she had to fight the sudden urge to turn around and throw herself in his arms, bawl hysterically and tell him the whole sad, awful story.

But again, that behaviour would not do, and she was immediately angry with herself for even feeling the desire. The desire to be weak. Her back straightened and her shoulders tensed, and she began to rip the groceries out of the bag and put them away, refusing to turn and look at him.

"Nothing." She said, her voice biting and defensive. She heard his soft intake of breath, and had to fight a flinch at the hurt look she knew he would have on his face if she turned around. Guilt flooded her, but she stood her ground, moving to open the refridgerator door and put the milk away.

Bobby let out his breath slowly, and took another approach.

"Where were you today?" he asked, still quiet, but not as soft. JayJ closed the door of the fridge and bent to open the cabinet under the sink, a new bottle of dishsoap in her hand. She contemplated the question for a moment, and decided to answer honestly.

"I had a meeting with a client." She said, flatly. She heard the rustle of fabric as Bobby crossed his muscular arms over his chest. "An old friend."

"You're planning a hit?" He asked, an edge creeping into his tone. JayJ closed the cabinet under the sink and moved to the one above the coffeemaker, replacing the empty box of filters.

"Yes." She said, finally turning to face him. She leaned her hip against the counter and folded her arms over her chest, mirroring his defensive pose. She raised her eyes to his in a challenge. Bobby met it levelly, and raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you were going to quit." He said, making it a statement, not a question.

"No." She said.

"No?"

"No."

He paused, giving her a look that said he was clearly waiting for her to elaborate. She didn't. A muscle in his jaw flexed.

"I don't want you to do it." He said, firmly now. JayJ felt her hackles rise.

"Perhaps I don't care what you want." She said, mimicking his tone. A spark of challenge lit his eyes, something like _Oh, really?_. His lips parted slightly, but before he could speak, JayJ steamrolled over him. "Perhaps I'm tired of always having to think about you in every little decision I make, Bobby. Maybe I'm not ready to sign my life away and be a little housewife in the suburbs."

Confusion rippled across Bobby's face, a flash of pain quickly hidden by consternation. Somewhere inside of JayJ a tiny voice screamed. _No, what are you doing? Pushing him away, you idiot, that's what. STOP! _

But she couldn't.

"I'm sorry." She said. She dropped her eyes and reached for her keys across the counter, her voice suddenly shaky. "I'm taking this job. I have some shit I have to deal with. I can't do this, with you... not until it's finished."

She swallowed the red-hot lump in her throat and blinked back tears, sprinting for the front entrance. She shoved her feet into her sneakers and ripped open the door, refusing to let herself look back to where he stood in the doorway.

* * *

Six years ago.. again. But slightly earlier than last time.

_"Come with me, Jaybird," Jordan said, "Don't go with them tomorrow. Come with me, we can get out, we can leave and go wherever we want. We can be together."_

_JayJ looked from her lap, where Jordan held her hands clasped tightly in his own, up to his hopeful sixteen-year-old face. For a moment, his excitement infected her, and whisked her away in dreams of freedom and adventure. The temptation to be rebellious, to experience the world and taste the forbidden fruit was so intoxicating, so seductive._

_But fear stopped her. Fear of the unknown, of all the things she'd been taught to fear her entire world was a frightening, evil place. How would a fifteen year old girl and a sixteen year old boy survive in it, alone? No. Here was their home. Here was safe. _

_"I can't, Jordan," she said, and pushed his hands away. "I can't."_

* * *

_Six years ago, continued._

* * *

They came for Jayden the next day, at noon. Two of the Brethren, in a huge white Cadillac SUV with chrome embellishments. Jayden gaped, and tried not to think of money it took to fuel that thing, and how one tank would have fed her struggling family for a month. That was not her place to question.

One of the brethren, in a black suit and tie, got out of the passenger seat and opened the back door for Jayden. Mother Lorraine made a show of smoothing Jayden's new pastel pink dress and kissing her tenderly on the forehead, before nudging her towards the SUV. It was a charade for the benefit of the Brethren, of course. Jayden knew that Mother Lorraine was thrilled to be rid of her, thrilled that she had been chosen to marry Brother Lyle. It was an honor, Jayden reminded herself. An honor not only for her, but for the whole family.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she walked to the gigantic car. To steady them, she wrapped them tightly around her father's white leather Book of Mormon. If her father were alive, he would be so proud.

She climbed in slowly, feeling the cool tan leather of the seat through the thin broadcloth of her dress. There was a soft _thwuck_ as the door was shut behind her. The air conditioned interior of the SUV was near-heaven compared to the July heat outside. But nervousness made Jayden's palms clammy. The engine purred as the SUV began to move, and Jayden snapped her head up to look out the dark-tinted window. She watched as Mother Lorraine waved brightly one last time, then turned and went back inside the house.

That was her last view of her home, as the SUV hauled her south. Fear settled in Jayden's stomach. She looked up at the back of the Brethrens' heads. They did not turn to look at her, or say a word. They seemed content to pretend she did not exist.

With a shaky intake of breath, she closed her eyes. And thought of Jordan's comforting smile.

* * *

And now... again. But later.

JayJ turned her car onto the freeway, and headed west. She brushed a tear from her cheek as she drove, and tried to put Bobby out of her head. That had been hell. And, quite possibly the stupidest thing she had ever done in her life. But it would do no good to dwell on it now. After this was over, if it turned out well, she _would_ come back. She would do whatever she could to try and earn his forgiveness. She promised herself that much. But now it was time to put her head in the game. She sniffled, and checked her rearview mirror.

There's a very legitimate reason why professional hitmen, (or women), never take jobs with personal connections. Its the same reason that doctors don't operate on friends and family and what-have-you. In personal situations, emotions run very high. And unless you're a complete psychopath, your emotions can make you make mistakes. Lapses in judgement, prejudiced oversight, the list goes on. Also, in a situation where your personal connection to the victim gives you motive, you are going to shoot right to the top of the cops' suspect list.

So for these and many other valid reasons, JayJ should never have accepted Jordan's hit. But there was one very good reason why she would. And it outweighed all of those other considerations.

Revenge.

Revenge is a dish best served cold, they say. And the last six years had given it a long time to fester and rot in JayJ's mental pantry of Just Desserts. Now, she decided, it was about time to shove it down her enemy's choking throat.

* * *

JayJ saw her exit coming up, and pulled into the far right lane. It took her down into the warehouse district. Checking her rearview mirror often for a tail, JayJ navigated the area carefully, pulling up finally into a run-down storage facility. The flickering neon sign proudly proclaimed 'Big Joey's Storage', with less than half of the letters lit up.

Pulling the Magnum revolver from the waistband of her jeans, JayJ checked the chamber before she got out of the car. Slipping the gun back in place subtly, she got out of the convertible and jogged quietly across the lot towards the lockers, her eyes always on the prowl.

Now, a hitman/woman who is staying in any one place for any length of time, starts to hide weapons like a squirrel stashes nuts. Plenty of them, all over. Locker number 17 registered to J. Padalecki at Big Joey's Storage was one of JayJ's bigger nut stashes.

Looking over her shoulder, JayJ fished out her key and popped the lock, then stood to the side and pulled out her penlight and revolver before throwing up the door. A quick sweep of the interior with the gun and light showed that the locker was empty of human life. That was as expected, but it never paid to go around too cocky. Slipping the Magnum back in her waistband, JayJ took the penlight in her mouth and grabbed an empty army surplus duffle bag from the top of a cardboard box. Moving quickly and quietly, she proceeded to fill it with all the delicious goodies of her trade.

* * *

It was two a.m. when JayJ pulled up outside the Comfort Inn. She put the green Ford Explorer in park, killed the engine and jumped out, heading for Jordan's room. She'd followed him here earlier that day, after brunch and before grocery shopping. Then, of course, her second order of business after visiting the locker had been to stash the Mustang in a long-term parking garage and hot-wire another vehicle from a different level. She pulled the purple hood of her jacket down to cover her face from casual observers and swung the goodie-loaded duffle over her shoulder. When she got to Jordan's door, she reached out and knocked. Twice.

She heard shuffling inside after the second knock, but it took Jordan two full minutes before he opened the door and stood there looking at her, dressed in a tank top and pajama bottoms, his hair a rumpled mess and a look of sleepy confusion on his handsome boyish face.

"Jayden?" He asked, gruffly, stifling a yawn.

"Hi." She said, and shouldered her way inside. She dropped her duffle bag on the bed with a metallic clink while Jordan shut and locked the door, then continued to scope out the room, checking the bathroom and closet with her trusted Magnum held nonchalantly at her side. Once she was convinced that she and Jordan were the only two in the room, she put the gun back in its usual spot and turned to meet his bleary-eyed scrutiny.

"Alright," she said, with a predatory glint in her eye. "I'm in."

* * *

**A/N for more, Go to my profile and add Pink Nail Polish & a .44 Slug to your Story Alert list! :) Review!**


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